DARE!
by Sheri Ledding
Summary: Harry is given a dare and ends up with more than he expected. Slash.
1. Secrets

_This story has been altered from its original form to conform to rating standards. The entire, unedited version can be found on my website under an NC-17 rating. Most edits are minor in nature and don't affect the plot, where they do, I have done my best to maintain the integrity of the plot._

_Disclaimer: Not mine._

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Harry ducked behind the statue at the base of the stairway. He readjusted his invisibility cloak to make sure his toes were covered. He had thought he heard someone coming. Why was he here? He couldn't believe he was lurking around the dungeons. Here he was, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, seventh year, and head boy to boot, sneaking around trying to get in to the Slytherin common room on a dare.

He laughed quietly at the thought. He considered what other people would say. Oh, yes, in their spare time, the Gryffindor boys play truth or dare. It was true, but not at all the way it sounded. They had started in sixth year. It was no ordinary game of truth or dare, more like extreme truth or dare. They were still playing the same game from sixth year, taking their turns, often less than willingly. There were no cop-out answers. If you said 'truth,' you were asked for more than just a truth. If you were asked how many girls you could have in one week, you were expected to take a week and find out. If you were asked if you were gay, you had better not answer before you find a bloke to snog. The dares were worse and often took long periods of time to complete.

Harry wondered what had made him say 'dare' when Seamus had called his name. His mind had been a complete blank. Seamus had thought for a moment, then had stood to proclaim the challenge. "Your dare is," he had paused for effect, damn Irishman was so dramatic, "Draco Malfoy!"

Harry had felt his stomach hit the floor. Seamus had continued. "Find out his deepest secret, the thing he guards the closest."

Ron had piped up. "'My dad is the Dark Lord's lapdog' doesn't count, we all know that!"

Seamus had nodded to Ron. "Right. Then," he had stopped for a moment to think, "then make him knowingly reveal it to the person he most dreads telling!"

Ron had clapped his hands together. "All right!"

Dean had taken this as a cue and had begun a round of applause. Neville had joined in, as had Ron. Dean had slapped Seamus on the back. "Good one, mate!"

Harry had felt about ready to pass out, but he knew the ritual. He had stood on as the applause faded. "I accept your dare unto myself and it shall be done."

Now, Harry cursed the game, sending him after his enemy's secrets. It would be just his luck that he'd find out Draco's mother was dying or something. He kicked the statue and immediately regretted it; it was much harder than his toes. He kept quiet however, because the sounds of approaching students were getting closer. Yes, here they came around the corner; three girls, third or fourth year by the look of them. He slipped out behind them and started listening in on their conversation in hopes of getting the password.

"Do you think he's in there? I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight if I see him in the common room. He's so hot."

"No, Blanche, it's 8:30; he bathes at 8:15 for an hour, you know that as well as I do."

"But what if he didn't go tonight, Meredith?"

"Don't be a dummy, Sloane, of course he went. He's a Malfoy!"

"Oh, just hearing you say that gives me shivers. Serpent's Sanctuary."

The wall rearranged itself into an opening and the girls climbed through, heading across the room. Harry followed them though and pressed up against the wall beside the door. Score two for Potter. One for the password and an extra for finding out when Malfoy was in the shower. He thought for a second, then awarded himself another point for not hurling listening to those girls. He didn't let himself think of the fact that he hadn't really wanted to hurl, more to strangle them and make them shut up. Well then, three points. A good start. He looked around the common room.

Student were starting to head off to bed it seemed. It was Thursday night, everyone went to bed early, especially the first years. He kept track of a couple and soon found that the girls were heading down the corridor to the left and boys to the right. Good, now he wouldn't set off the alarm. He picked his way across to the right hand corridor, keeping close to walls and chairs so as not to collide with anyone. The hall wound about a bit, then abruptly joined another. He peered up this new hall and soon saw a student coming. He pressed up against his wall and watched as she passed. So much for the girls' hall. He followed her down the hall by the doors, reading the signs.

'First Years' Green on silver sign. Across the hall, the same sign, silver on green. Must mean boys and girls.

'Second Years'

'Third Years'

'Fourth Years'

As he was making his way down, he noticed that there was a door at the end of the hall, but he couldn't read it.

'Fifth Years'

'Sixth Years'

'Seventh Years'

He was about to tuck himself in a corner and wait to see which was girls and which was boys when he finally realized what the door at the end said. 'Malfoy' Leave it to Malfoy to have his father get him a private room. He turned the knob. Locked. Pulling out his wand, he muttered "Alohamora." The door swung open under his touch. Apparently, he felt safe down here. Harry closed the door, locking it behind him.

The room was just a cut above average. The usual twin curtained bed was a double with gauzelike draperies. A chest of drawers against the wall bore a mirror and several toiletries. A bureau, assumably containing uniforms, was topped by an empty cage. In the corner was a perch, for Malfoy's eagle owl, Harry guessed. He glanced at his watch. 9:10. It had taken him a long time to get here. If Draco was prompt, he would be back in five minutes. He began looking for somewhere to hide. The corner created by the bureau and the wall looked promising, but something told him it was a bad idea. Instead, he leapt into the bureau itself, tucking down beneath the hanging uniforms. It was a good thing he did. Just as he pulled the door shut, Draco came in.

"Damn prefects think they have all of the rights. 'Get out of the shower, you're taking too long!' 'I'll deduct house points!' 'First Years first!' You would think they had authority!"

He heard a couple of drawers open and shut. The plush comforter was turned down. "I hate Thursdays." Draco climbed in, he thought. Then he saw the lights go out outside the bureau. They didn't stay off long. "My fairies!"

The lights came back, the covers rustled again, and bare feet slapped across the floor. The door slammed open. "Crabbe! Goyle!"

A few seconds later, larger feet approached.

"Where are my fairies?"

"I thought – "

"You thought? Crabbe, how many times have I told you not to think? Goyle, hit him."

Harry heard a smack as Crabbe took his punishment.

"See? Now Goyle knows his place. He never thinks; he just waits for me to tell him. If I didn't talk to him for three days, he'd stay right…all right, he'd wander up to the Great Hall and stuff his face, but he would keep doing that until I came and told him what to do! He would never resort to thinking! Out of my sight, both of you!"

He slammed the door and his feet slapped across the room, toward Harry. Was he going to open the bureau? He didn't. Instead, he went into that corner beside the bureau and practically knocked the whole thing over, probably getting the empty cage off the top. He heard the door rattle as Malfoy shook it.

"What am I going to do now? Light my wand all night? Damn Crabbe and his thinking." He tossed the cage onto the chest of drawers and headed back to the bed. Harry heard him climb back in and the lights went out again, but not all the way. There was still a faint glow. Harry waited some time to be sure Draco was asleep, then slipped out of the bureau.

He looked for the source of the glow. It was within the gauzy confines of the bed.

He walked up to the edge of the bed, but still didn't see the source of the light. It seemed Draco was in the way. Harry pulled the curtain back and saw that Draco was turned away from him, his shoulder-length hair, still damp, splayed out on the pillow. The boy's delicate cheekbones were just visible, as were his shoulders. It seemed he didn't wear a shirt to bed.

He walked around to the other side of the bed and pushed aside the curtain there. On the pillow before Draco's face was his wand, lit and illuminating the room. Harry tried to focus his mind on what that meant. He stared at Draco's peaceful face, lit by the wand. Why was the wand there? Why was it lit? Did he, perhaps, need it there? Why did he have fairies? Wait, was he, perhaps, afraid of the dark? Harry blinked. Draco Malfoy was afraid of the dark? He laughed to himself. This was probably the easiest dare that had been handed out. He had Malfoy's deepest, darkest secret.

No, wait, there was one piece left. Who did he most dread telling? He sighed. The answer couldn't be 'the population of Hogwarts,' there had to be someone in particular that Draco couldn't stand telling.

But now, it was getting late. Harry could see his watch reading 10:45. He needed to get back. He pulled the silvery green curtains back around the bed and snuck back out. It could wait for tomorrow.


	2. Observation

Harry woke up thinking about Draco. Who was it? Who couldn't he tell? Harry had had other occasions to hate what the game did to people, but this was the worst. He had Draco on the brain. All of the time. In his sleep. During class. On the pitch. He couldn't even sleep through Binns' class; he was thinking about Draco. Who?

It had been three days since the challenge had been issued. Harry couldn't believe how easy it had been to discover Draco's secret, but he could not, somehow, figure out who was the most important person to Malfoy. Who was the absolute _last_ person Draco would tell?

He walked into the Great Hall for breakfast, avoiding bleary-eyed students. Monday morning is a unique phenomenon. Even the clumsiest students neatly perform feats of navigation studied in an entire wing of the Department of Mysteries. It has been suggested that the students' ability to navigate without sight stems from the simple fact that a collision would begin a domino effect and systematically floor everyone in the vicinity.

Harry, unfortunately, was awake and thinking about Draco, and so was not subject to this peculiar talent. He thoughtfully started to wind through the Hall toward the Gryffindor table, but the going was slow. He felt like everyone was moving in slow motion. The subject of his recursive thoughts walked in behind him, though he did not notice. He turned to slip his thin shoulder between a couple of Hufflepuffs and accidentally knocked into one, proving the Department's theory by practical example. Shortly, the only students not on the floor were the ones who had already been seated.

Harry found himself on his stomach. He attempted to roll over and discovered that someone was on top of him. He managed it anyway and found himself face to face with the very boy who had so plagued his thoughts. Draco's eyes were screwed shut and his right hand held his head; he had probably received a crack to the head when he fell.

Harry _did_ feel bad that Draco had hurt himself, but, truth be told, the blonde was _on top_ of him and he could…use his legs back…he guessed. "Er…Malfoy?"

Draco stopped rubbing his head. Slowly, his eyes opened, glancing furtively about him, taking in all of the befuddled students helping each other off the ground to one side and swinging over Harry to see the similar scene on the other side. He seemed to notice someone and stiffen. His head turned back toward Harry and he saw pink rising in the pale cheeks. The blonde scrambled off of him and out the door of the Great Hall. Harry propped himself up and organized his thoughts. First, he took a mental note of everyone to the side Draco had looked second. Who had he seen?

Malfoy didn't come back to breakfast, leaving Harry to ponder the other people he had seen. He quickly narrowed it down to a short list of potentials. All that was left was to figure out who it was. It was time to do something rash. Observation wasn't going to work from this far away. He would have to get closer. His mind immediately flashed an image of the two of them on the floor. He shook his head. Friendly, not close.

Hagrid's hut slowly emerged over the rise as the Gryffindors trudged out to Care of Magical Creatures. Harry carefully pulled ahead, reaching Hagrid first. He could see the Slytherins approaching as well. "Hagrid?"

"Yeah, Harry?"

"Are we working in partners today?"

"Er, yeah, probably."

"I need to work with Malfoy."

"Malfoy, Harry?" Hagrid finally turned from the rather intimidating pit in his yard to look at Harry.

"Yes, Malfoy. Er…Hagrid? Remember that game I told you about?"

Hagrid grunted and turned back to his pit. He and Harry had had a long talk the first time Harry asked for a favor for the game.

"So, can I?"

Hagrid nodded. "All righ', Harry. But I warn ya. Don't get yourself in trouble with this game."

"Thanks, Hagrid!"

The students made their way to the hut, gathering around Hagrid and the pit. Harry finally saw what was in it. They looked like a cross between spiders and parrots. Huge spiders with beaks and wings. Harry glanced over his shoulder at Ron. He was going to _hate_ this lesson.

Some fifteen minutes later, the yard was in chaos. It turned out that, while every pair was only charged with one of the makeshift flying spiders, they were capable of multiplying. Soon, each pair was surrounded by a cloud of black legs and colorful wings. In general, students had hit the deck and intended to stay there until the nightmares were gone. Ron, however, was beyond this. Mercifully, Hagrid had paired him with Hermione. She was one of the few still standing, doing spells at rapid fire. Ron was a quivering mass at her feet. It was even quite possible that he was crying.

The only other two still standing were Harry and Draco. They had stood back to back when the creatures, which Hagrid had lovingly called "dolykins," began multiplying. They were still there, surrounded but fighting bravely. Each held his wand in his right hand as they circled around a point between their feet. Their left hands they held out to maintain their balance, though occasionally a hand would reach back to ensure the continued presence of the other boy, tapping him on the hip and snapping back out.

After a time, Hagrid managed to regain control of all of his dolykins, putting them back in the pit. A few students were sent to the nurse with scratches from the beaks, but most were just afraid. Disappointed, Hagrid dismissed the class early. Harry managed to stay near Draco.

"That was pretty good back there."

Draco looked at him like he had a dolykin climbing out of his ear. "Yes, well, we Malfoys never back down, Potter. You're just lucky I was there."

Harry wanted to shout back that it had been even but he knew that his purpose was otherwise. "I suppose so. Maybe we should partner more often." Well. That didn't hurt quite as much as he had thought it would.

Malfoy looked him over appraisingly, then questioningly, then appraisingly again. "I'll think about it." He turned and walked away. Harry smiled. He might just manage this.


	3. Pansy

"Are you coming, Potter?" Cheerleaders in Harry's head started dancing and waving pompoms. The image thoroughly disturbed him, so he ignored it. It had taken the better part of a month filled with chance meetings and one-sided encounters, but Draco was finally starting to accept Harry as…an acquaintance? A friend? Whatever it was, Draco was going to Hogsmede with some friends, acquaintances, whatever, and he asked Harry, almost as though he assumed he was coming.

"Sure. Let me grab a cloak."

Draco's eyes flicked to the staircase that led up to the Gryffindor tower, then the one down into the dungeons. "Yes, you do that. We will meet here in ten minutes."

Harry nodded and sprinted off up the stairs. He ran, panting, into the seventh year dorms and dragged up his emerald cloak. Some time ago, having realized the use it would be, he had cut a pocket on the inside where he could tuck the lighter weight invisibility cloak. He did this now and started out of the room. Suddenly, he turned around and ran back to his bedside table to grab a piece of parchment with seven names written on it: Pansy, Blaise, Neville, Hermione, Ron, Audrey and Eric.

Again, he made to leave the room, but this time he was blocked in. Dean, Seamus, Ron, and Neville were standing just inside the door all looking impatient. It seemed that Dean was the spokesman. "Harry, have you completed your dare yet?"

Harry blinked. They were checking up on him. Thinking about it, dares didn't usually take this long. "No, but I am well on the way. Half is completed, I know his deepest secret. However –"

Ron interrupted. "What is it?"

Harry's mind flashed back to the list. The list of people nearby when Draco had blushed, the list of people who might answer the burning "who?" in his mind. Ron was on that list. "I can't tell you."

"What?" Ron looked dumbstruck. "Why not?"

"Well, what if you're the person he's keeping it from? I mean, that's the part I'm still trying to figure out. And, to be frank, I am missing a golden opportunity as we speak."

The boys looked at each other. They trusted Harry. They moved aside.

He hopped onto a railing at the top of the stairs and was suddenly grateful that all of the times when he did this and nearly killed himself were in the past. He neatly transitioned from one staircase to the next, alighting to the floor, his cloak billowing behind him, before the gathered Slytherins.

There was a brief silence before Draco spoke. "We almost left without you."

"Sorry."

The blonde turned and walked away toward the doors with his posse in tow. As Harry fell into the group, he noticed who of all was there. Crabbe and Goyle walked right behind Draco. Harry hadn't considered them for the list. No, Draco didn't respect them enough. Behind them was Pansy Parkinson. She _was_ on the list. Harry had considered the assumption of the school that Draco and Pansy were betrothed. No one really knew for sure, but they were the purest blood in the school. Either way, Draco most likely respected her above the rest of the school. There were a couple others in the group, but Harry didn't know them well and he got the feeling Draco didn't either.

When they reached the street to go to Hogsmede, people shifted about a bit. Pansy got closer to Draco and they began a conversation. Harry managed to get close enough to hear, even though Crabbe and Goyle remained between him and the purebloods.

"…the game this weekend?" Pansy's voice floated back t him.

"I booked the pitch for Thursday night. The Hufflepuffs wanted it but," he sighed, "first come first serve."

"So you're saying they already –"

"You know how these things work," Draco briskly cut her off with a wave of his hand. "I expect to see you and the others at seven o'clock."

Harry had forgotten that Pansy was a chaser this year. Draco was the captain, Harry's opposite number. Pansy nodded, "I'll tell –"

Draco interrupted again. "_I_ will inform my own team, Parkinson." His eyes flashed; she had stepped over the line. "Just be on time." Pansy flushed; anger briefly danced in her eyes.

"Yes, Draco." Then she did something Harry had never seen her do. She broke eye contact with Draco and lowered her eyes, slowing down and falling back.

Draco, now lacking a conversational partner, turned to Crabbe and Goyle, his beaters. "Crabbe, Goyle, tell the team. Seven o'clock, Thursday night. I want everyone there. It's very important that we practice before we play Gryffindor this weekend." For the first time, his eyes flickered to Harry, seemingly noticing him for the first time.

"Organizing a team is a lot of work, eh Potter?"

Harry double stepped to catch up, slipping between Crabbe and Goyle. "Yeah, it can be difficult." He didn't want to tread on Draco's authority, but he personally felt that stealing the pitch from Hufflepuff and alienating one of his chasers was bad management. He looked over his shoulder at Pansy. Draco followed his gaze.

"Parkinson? Girls can be a bit finicky, you must know that. They're probably your team's only weakness."

Harry stared at Draco. He didn't even seem to _think_ that he had just said something completely ludicrous. But Harry couldn't alienate him now. "Well, I think they do a pretty good job."

Draco scoffed, Harry managed not to cringe. "Your team would be flawless without them. Our team probably would be too, but I had to take Parkinson on. She's the purest blood in the school, aside from me, and her father, well, he's making certain contributions and…not making others, based on her placement." Draco looked pained. "Girls don't belong in quidditch."

Harry spent an awkward fifteen minutes in an incredibly polite argument with Draco over women's rights on the pitch. He just kept telling himself that Draco was a reflection of his father. He didn't formulate these opinions on his own. But how could anyone call quidditch "the Man's sport"? Harry knew a lot of muggle sports where it might be more difficult for girls to start playing, but quidditch was even, there was nothing that girls find physically any more difficult than boys. And they often had really good ideas.

Finally, they reached the Three Broomsticks. Harry backed off as Draco got them all a table. As they sat down, he found himself to Pansy's left. Draco was across the table. Madam Rosmerta came by to take their drink orders. Harry was only momentarily surprised at the number of different colorful drinks the Slytherins ordered. A few eyes flickered his way when he asked for a butterbeer.

Conversation was polite and somewhat forced. Harry found it a bit uncomfortable. He shifted in his seat a bit and sipped at his butterbeer, only responding when he was addressed. Then, out of nowhere, he felt a foot on his leg, a stocking foot. He froze. The toes messed a bit with the edge of his pant leg, pushing it up his calf. He pulled his leg away. Some thirty seconds later, the foot was back. Then a hand on his knee. Finally, he looked to his right. Pansy smiled at him and continued running her foot up and down his leg. He slid to the left a bit. She followed. Then, she stopped, hissing, as suddenly as she had started. He looked at her again. There was pain in her face and anger in her eyes; but it wasn't directed at Harry, she was glaring daggers at Draco. He looked to Draco, catching a concerned and almost…possessive...look in his eyes before he swung his gaze down the table to talk to someone further down.

Harry decided that, at this point, he could probably make an excuse and get out. "If you will all excuse me, I need to work on my team's plays for this weekend, my schedule is tight and we have practice tomorrow." He stood, then nodded to both ends of the table, trying to preserve the level of respect the Slytherins maintained.

As he made his way back to the school, he mentally crossed Pansy off the "Possiblities List," as he was coming to think of it. Draco obviously lacked any respect for her as an individual. He had to respect her family, her bloodline. Now, what was he going to do for the rest of the day?


	4. Blaise

"All right, team, this is _our_ game." Harry never wrote his prep talks ahead of time. He knew that when he got into the locker room and he could hear the crowd in the stands it would come to him. "This year's team is incredible. You guys are all incredible." He looked at all of their faces. Ron always looked nervous before games. Harry used to worry about it throwing his game off. A strong keeper is important to the team; the keeper is the backbone. This year, Ginny had joined the team as a chaser with two of her classmates, Anne Kennicott and Mary Johnson, former chaser Angelina's sister, and she seemed to calm him. Usually, it involved punching him on the shoulder, rather hard Harry guessed, since the one time she did it to him he was bruised for a week.

He smiled at Ron as Ginny hit him again. Ron smiled back, though it was a pained smile. Ginny flashed him a brilliant smile too. Anne and Mary grinned and nodded. Down at the end of the bench was the unbridled enthusiasm that was the Creevey brothers, Colin and Dennis, who had bulked up and made for a pair of the most energetic beaters ever, rivals to the Weasley twins. They grinned maniacally at him, barely managing to stay in their seats.

He didn't know what he said next and it didn't matter. The team was psyched and they charged onto the pitch ready to beat the Slytherins. And they did. Thomas Avery was defeated again and again by the tag teaming sixth year chasers. Crabbe and Goyle, while hitting the bludgers harder than the Creeveys, were slower to get to them. Ron, as was more and more common, monopolized his hoops. While Pansy was a rather good chaser, she didn't work particularly well with John Baddon or Malcom Nott. The balls they _did_ put through the hoops were flukes. When Harry and Draco dove for the snitch, the game had almost been predetermined. 170 to 30 Gryffindor. Malfoy had a newer broom than Harry, but he fell behind and Harry emerged victorious. The final score was 220 to 30 Gryffindor.

As he emerged from the locker room, Harry saw Draco talking to Blaise Zabini. He was tired, but some opportunities cannot be missed. He made his way in their direction. Blaise was another name on his list, Draco's "best friend" as it were. Harry somewhat doubted that Draco really _had_ friends, but Blaise was the one he seemed to trust. As far as Harry knew, trust garnered some level of respect. When working with Malfoys, it seemed that everything, and everyone, was measured by respect.

However, as Harry came close, Draco turned to him, moving his attention even though Blaise was mid-sentence. "Potter." He nodded his head in acknowledgement, solidifying that he was no longer listening to Blaise.

Harry stood awkwardly for a moment, then decided that he might as well answer. "Tough game today."

Draco gave him that look again, the appraising sweep from toe to head. "Not for you. You weren't exactly challenged." He scowled. "Maybe you can give me some tips on team management."

This earned him a glare from Blaise. "Draco…"

Draco cut him off with his hand. "Blaise, I will see you in the common room."

"But Dr-"

"In the common room."

Blaise glared at Harry. Harry felt that was a bit unfair. He hadn't done anything. He shrugged. Blaise frowned again and stalked away.

Harry looked back to Draco. Might as well keep being nice. "Sure, sometime."

Draco looked at his watch. "How about now?"

Harry knew that his best choice answer was 'Sure' but he went out on a limb. "How about Monday?" Monday was much better for him.

A cloud passed over Draco's eyes, then cleared. "Alright. See you then."

Harry wandered back to the common room very unsure about what had happened.


	5. Neville

Neville Longbottom was…different from he rest the list. Harry had nothing against Neville, but Draco did. Neville was the least respectable of everyone at school in Draco's mind. Why didn't Harry think Draco wouldn't want Neville to know? Respect. A different kind of respect. Self-respect. If Neville was the lowest of the low and he knew something like that, something so demeaning, about Draco, the blonde would lose all respect for himself.

Potions. Harry was almost incredulous at how well things were working out for him. Snape made Malfoy work with Neville. Harry and Ron were working behind them.

"Harry. Harry!" Ron hissed in his ear.

"What?"

"Stop chopping. They're small enough!"

Harry realized that the fireleeks were definitely small enough. He had been thinking about Blaise the day before. Draco showed Blaise almost less respect than Pansy. Another name to scratch off the list. "Sorry." He scraped the leek bits together and put them in the cauldron.

"Are you okay? You've been acting kind of, weird, recently." Ron looked somewhat pointedly at Draco.

Harry shrugged and muttered, "The dare."

Ron nodded. "Just don't overdo it."

Harry nodded back to indicate that he understood, and then shushed Ron with his finger. Draco was trying to direct Neville. "Longbottom. Just…stir." He handed the trembling Gryffindor a large ladle and turned to chop up his fireleeks. Shortly, the cauldron began emitting sparks. Neville panicked and covered the cauldron, trying to get Draco's attention.

"Malfoy? Malfoy?" His voice quavered as the cover rattled. He grabbed the edge of Draco's sleeve and tugged. "Malfoy?"

Harry had been watching with an air of both amusement and worry. Now, he was more worried than amused. Some sparking was actually expected; but no cauldron should be threatening to explode, even covered and overheated, this was a rather harmless potion.

Suddenly, he was struck with an important fact. No one was paying attention. Draco kept shrugging Neville off. Snape was busily yelling at Dean and Seamus across the room. The lid on Neville's cauldron lifted a bit on one side and orange smoke billowed out for a moment before it clanked back into place. The smoke continued to leak out from under the cover, forming a thin orange layer up at the dungeon ceiling. The cauldron began to shake, to tremble with the pressure.

Just then, Draco finally turned to Neville. "What, Longbottom?!" His eyes fell on the cauldron. "Fuck!" The blonde ran toward the cauldron. So did Harry. He wasn't really thinking, he just knew that the cauldron was going to explode.

"Draco! Get back!" He shouldered Draco aside, landing on top of him, as the cauldron exploded behind them. He remembered no more.

Harry opened his eyes. Everything was blurry. He saw two people, he thought. Red. Red hair surrounded a pale face. And brown. Lots of brown hair obscured the other. "Ron? Hermione?" The faces turned to him; he thought they might be smiling.

"Harry! You're awake!" Hermione threw herself forward to hug him. Then she handed him his glasses.

"You had us worried, mate, taking that cauldron." As Harry put on his glasses, Ron clapped a hand on his shoulder. Harry suddenly remembered what had happened.

"Draco!"

Ron gave Hermione a look, kind of a 'see what I mean?' look. Harry wondered what that was for. Hermione sat on the edge of his bed. "He's fine. You nearly suffocated him and he got a concussion when he hit the floor, but you got it worse." The look in her eyes said that she hadn't said everything she wanted to, but she stopped there.

Harry thought about this for a moment, and then realized that he couldn't really feel parts of his body. He thought he recognized the sensation, but he had never managed to label it in the wizarding world. He turned his head to look at Hermione. "I'm numb, aren't I?" It was a misnomer and he knew it, 'numb' is the tingling sensations you get from muggle drugs like novocaine. This was more like a false normal. He felt no pain, but no real feeling either.

Hermione nodded. "There were too many broken bones. They should all be back by now, Madam Pomfrey grew them back while you were out."

"What time is it?"

"Well, almost dinner time. The numb should wear off shortly; Madam Pomfrey will want to check you one more time."

"Is Draco still in here too?"

Again, a look between them. Harry, as he had been a few times in the last year or so, was both resentful and envious of their relationship. Not only did they love each other, they could communicate so well. Ron answered this time. "Yes, but he should be leaving very shortly." He glanced sharply at a bed a little ways away. The curtains were closed.

He was starting to feel the dull pain in his limbs. A door opened and Madam Pomfrey bustled by. "Oh good, you're awake! I'll be back in just a moment, I must check on Mr. Malfoy." She walked behind the curtain at the other bed.

Harry found himself watching the curtain, waiting for Draco to emerge. He just wanted to see that he was all right. Hermione tapped him on the shoulder. "Hmm?" He didn't look back at her, but he was listening.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

Then the curtain opened. Harry watched as Draco got out of the bed. He looked around and saw Harry. Harry quickly averted his gaze, some. Draco didn't look much worse for wear; but then again, he hadn't taken much of the blow. As Draco passed the bed, he stopped, giving Harry that look again, head to toe. It made him feel vulnerable, on the bed, only just starting to get the feeling back in his limbs. But then something changed in Draco's eyes, the stone gray softened, the ice melted, but only for a second. Harry figured he had imagined it. Maybe it was time to bone up on his Occlumency.

"Potter, are we still on for tonight?"

At first Harry didn't remember what tonight was. Oh, right, he was going to give Draco captaining tips. "Um, yeah, sure."

Draco glanced at Ron and Hermione, and then continued. "Where and when?"

Harry considered for a moment. The easiest thing was the invisibility cloak; they could use one of the rooms on the Marauder's Map. He almost laughed. It sounded like a lover's midnight rendezvous. All for quidditch. And the dare. He had almost forgotten the dare. "Um…I'll come and get you. Meet me at the entrance to your common room at ten." Ten was after Draco's bath and it would give Harry some more time to recover.

Draco looked at him somewhat suspiciously, and then nodded. "See you then, Potter." He turned and left the room, not quite managing his usual saunter.

When Draco turned the corner, Harry looked back to Ron and Hermione. He could read the look they were giving him now. 'Explain yourself.'

He looked at Ron. "The dare. It's a little difficult to learn so much unless I actually spend time with him."

Hermione's eyes bolted to Ron. "You're still playing that game?" Ron quelled. This was another almost entertaining aspect of their relationship. The strong red head shrank in the face of his girlfriend's anger or disapproval. "I have told you a million times. Both of you." She swung her gaze to Harry. Having finally gotten some motion back, he held his hands up innocently. It hurt. He put them down, sucking air through his teeth. "That game is pointless and dangerous!"

"It is not dangerous." Ron muttered.

"You keep telling yourself that, Ronald Weasley!" Hermione was getting rather worked up. "It's all fun and games until someone loses and eye! Or worse!"

Ron fell back on his usual strategy. He grabbed both of her hands and pulled her close. "All right. I understand. We'll stop. Calm down." Then he kissed her. He made it mercifully quick or Harry would have felt rather uncomfortable.

Hermione smiled at Ron. "Alright." Both Harry and Ron had appreciated this discovery of Ron's quite a few times. It had saved them from long talking-tos repeatedly. She looked at Harry. "You'll stop too?"

Harry, the golden boy, couldn't lie to either of his best friends. "I have to finish this dare."

The anger flashed through her eyes again, but, for some reason, she kept quiet. She nodded. "Be careful." Then she left, leaving the two boys alone.

Once she was out of earshot, Harry looked at Ron. "I need to know what he did. When I was out. All of it. I try to see as much of what he does as I possibly can, so be my eyes and tell me what I missed."

Ron fumbled for a moment. "Well…where do I start?"

Harry sighed. "I knocked Draco out of the way. Boom, the cauldron exploded. Then…"

"Then everyone looked. Snape went over and yelled at Neville for something like two whole minutes before Hermione saw you on the floor and Malfoy pinned under you. he couldn't talk because you were suffocating him. Neville was crying and Snape yelled at him. Then he made fun of you for having to 'protect' Malfoy. 'Our school's boy wonder' and all of that." Harry nodded, urging Ron to continue. "Then Malfoy got his breath back. Harry, I've never heard him like that. He kept looking at you, lying there looking all broken, you looked terrible, and he just…rambled. Do Malfoy's ramble?"

Harry managed to pull himself into a sitting position, but his whole body hurt, a sort of dull throbbing pain. He shrugged and Ron continued. "Let's see. He definitely said something about it being his fault. He said Neville was only stirring. Come to think of it, I think that's the first time I've ever heard Malfoy blame himself for something. Snape said it was an accident and didn't take any points, the git. Then, Malfoy insisted on following you up here. I think it was the concussion." Ron nodded. Harry thought about it, but was kept from drawing any conclusions by the arrival of Madam Pomfrey.

"Mr. Potter. I see you have regained sensation. Does anything hurt?"

"Does 'everything' count?"

She nodded. "Yes, that sounds about right. Nothing hurts especially though?"

He shook his head.

"Good. Do you think you can walk?"

"I can try."

Ron helped him out of the bed and he found that everything really did hurt. Several everythings, some of which he didn't even know he had. But he could walk, so Madam Pomfrey released him. As he made his way to the Great Hall under Ron's supervision, he crossed Neville off. Obviously, Draco respected him enough to save him from blame, which totally undercut his theory. He sighed and wondered what was for dinner. He was incredibly hungry.


	6. Hermione

Harry tore around the seventh year dorms. He couldn't find his invisibility cloak. It was 9:45 and he needed to get down to the Slytherin common room. Where was it? He felt around his chest and his bureau. Nothing.

The door opened and Harry turned to see Ron coming in. "Ron! Have you seen my invisibility cloak?"

Ron looked stunned. "Er…er…no, I don't think so."

"Damn it! I can't find it and I need to go!"

"It's not in your chest?" Harry shook his head. "Or the bureau?" Another shake. "Did you leave it out by that bush again, below the hoops?"

"No."

"Did you check?"

"No."

"I suggest you do."

Harry looked indignant. "It isn't there!"

"You can't know that until you check!"

"Fine!" He swung around, grabbed his green cloak, and headed out of the room, swirling the cloak over his shoulders. Halfway down the hall, he felt a square of padding bump up against his hip. "Ah-ha!" He pulled the cloak off, dug the invisibility cloak out of the secret pocket he had put it in the week before, and sprinted back to the seventh year dorms. He opened the door and stuck his head in. "Found it!" He tossed the green cloak onto the nearest bed and bolted.

He turned the last corner so fast he almost fell down the stairs. 10:05. He was late. And there was Draco, standing by a statue, just outside the common room, looking nervously up and down the hall. Harry ran, panting, up to him.

"Sorry I'm late."

Draco jumped. "What!? Who's there? Potter?"

"Oh! Sorry." He pulled off the cloak. "Invisibility cloak." He indicated the fabric in his hand.

Harry saw Draco try to hide the admiration in his eyes. This was probably the first one the blonde had ever been close enough to touch. "This explains a lot you know, Potter."

Harry chuckled. "Here, unfortunately, it's not all that big. Back in first year, Ron, Hermione, and I all fit under it. I think the two of us can manage it. You'll just have to stay really close."

Draco looked slightly alarmed.

"Don't worry. I don't bite. You'll have to be behind me anyway, you don't know where we're going."

"Wh-Where are we going?" Draco was starting to look very suspicious. Harry was starting to feel equally conspicuous, standing out in the hall like this.

"Just to an empty classroom, with chalkboards so we can talk plays. Come on, get under before someone comes."

Draco, somewhat hesitantly, stepped behind Harry. He swung the cloak around them and checked their feet. All four were showing to the ankles. "You're going to have to stick closer, crouch over." They readjusted. Harry checked again, another inch or so would do it. He stepped back and bumped into Draco, throwing him off balance. He braced himself for Draco to fall, just as he noticed Snape coming around the corner. "Shit."

Then, thankfully, he felt Draco's hands on his hips, righting the Slytherin just in time. He took off down the hall, keeping close to the wall as they passed Snape.

They made their way along the halls thus, Draco's hands mysteriously remaining on Harry's hips. Harry found himself concentrating on the directions to the room he had chosen. He had planned on checking again to make sure it was empty before they went, but he hadn't known how insane things were going to get when he made the date with Draco.

Had he just thought that? How did the words 'date' and 'Draco' ever get in the same sentence? He shook his head to clear the thought.

"Are we lost, Potter?" Draco's voice had a nervous edge to it and his grip tightened. Harry almost involuntarily stopped walking. Memo to self, get a girl. Maybe then this will stop.

"No, we're not lost." His voice was somewhat strained. "It's right…here." He pushed aside a tapestry to reveal a door. The stepped inside and he pulled off the cloak. "Er…you can let go now, Draco."

Draco jumped back, shouting back on the defensive. "Since when am I 'Draco'?"

Harry thought about that. Really, he had been thinking of him as Draco for some time now, he just didn't usually say it out loud. When did this happen? Before the dare. He stopped that train of thought. "Since…we're friends, right?"

Draco looked very cautious at this question. "Yes, I…suppose so."

"Then you should call me Harry, too." He saw the indecisive look on Draco's face. He held out his hand. "Let's start over. Hi, I'm Harry."

Draco looked at him funny, and then took his hand in a strong grip. "Draco."

"Nice to meet you Draco. I'm sure we can be great friends."

Draco snorted. Harry started laughing. Soon, the two of them were laughing so hard they were crying. Harry was the first to catch his breath. "We'll come back to the friends thing. So, quidditch."

"Right, quidditch."

It got quiet in the room. Harry suddenly missed the laughter of moments before. "You…were looking for some advice?"

Draco got indignant. "Malfoys don't need advice! I was…just looking for…some…pointers." He finished lamely.

Harry nodded. "Right, pointers." They sat for another moment. "Er…what on?"

Draco fished and came up empty. "Well, what do you think the team needs help with?"

"Well…they could use to work together better."

"How do you get your team to work together?" Draco sat on the sill of one of the windows. Harry joined him.

"Can I say, you know, whatever I think?"

Draco looked at him questioningly. "Yes…Harry. Feel free."

"Then, first, I think you need to start with your attitude."

"My attitude?" Draco looked offended for a moment, then relaxed. "How so?"

"As captain, you set the team's tone. First, there's the way you treat Pansy."

"Parkinson?"

"Yes. Baddon and Nott aren't going to treat her like a teammate until you do."

Draco scoffed. "I told you before, Harry, she's only there because her father –"

"That shouldn't matter, Draco. You still have to work as a team. If Hermione heard you saying all of that about girls and quidditch, she would be after you like she is with the house elves."

Harry hadn't even noticed bringing Hermione up, but this could be convenient. Draco shifted, putting a foot up in the corner of the windowsill and moving a little more toward the center. Harry mimicked the move and they were sitting back to back, pressed up against each other.

"House elves?"

Harry began to tell Draco about S.P.E.W.

"Spew?"

"Yeah, she's bright, but sometimes…" He continued, filling Draco in on her whole escapade. His thought when he put Hermione on the list was that she was Draco's only competition for top of the class. Harry figured that Draco respected her for her smarts and the formidable challenge she presented. Secondarily, he had long suspected that Draco may want Hermione as his own, though he doubted that the pureblood would admit any attraction to a muggle-born.

As Harry finished telling Draco about S.P.E.W., they had another healthy round of laughter. It died, as before, and the boys lapsed into silent thoughts. After a moment, Draco turned his head to look somewhat over his shoulder at Harry. "You know," he spoke quietly, almost confidentially, "she's always seemed rather nice."

Ah-ha! He did like her! And she was it! Harry had finally figured it out!

"She seems so accepting and easy to talk to."

Strike that; celebration started too early.

"Yeah, she can be great."

Another comfortable silence fell, and never lifted. The two seventeen-year-olds fell asleep, back to back, on the sill.


	7. Ron

Harry awoke with a crick in his neck and his entire right leg asleep. After gaining his bearings, he checked his watch. Breakfast was half-gone and students would be headed to class shortly. What was his first class today? He racked his brain. Care of Magical Creatures. With the Slytherins. Speaking of Slytherins, Draco was still asleep behind him. He elbowed the blonde a bit, prodding him awake.

"Mmm…Harry?"

"Wake up, Draco. We're late." He felt a jolt behind him, Draco was up. "Don't worry. We have Care of Magical Creatures first. We'll throw on the invisibility cloak, go get ready, and slip in late. Even if Hagrid notices, he'll probably let us get away with it." They spent a moment stomping around the class to get feeling back in their legs, then bolted under the cloak again.

Some twenty minutes later, the boys were quietly sprinting across the grounds. They came up behind Hagrid's hut. Harry stopped abruptly and turned to speak to Draco.

Unfortunately, his actions had some interesting consequences. First, his sudden stop knocked Draco off balance. His turn left him in position to catch the falling boy, but his hands only managed to come up to Draco's hips. Draco's hands had slipped around behind Harry. They stood like that for a moment, hip to hip, and then Harry let go. As did Draco, though he lingered a moment longer. Harry cleared his throat.

"I'll go first, you follow in a minute. Use the cloak." He ducked out from under the cloak and slipped into the milling class. A couple minutes later, he spotted Draco. They had both made it.

"…dolykins. So today, yer gonna do a 'fresher in flobberworms. Er…over here."

Hagrid had that defeated look he sometimes got. Harry felt bad, but the dolykins really weren't safe. The class wandered toward some tables covered in lettuce. Harry sat between Ron and Hermione. They started shredding the lettuce for the flobberworms on the table. Some of the Slytherins sat a bit further down the table. Somehow, Draco ended up more or less across from Harry, between Crabbe and Goyle. It didn't look like he was expecting or planning conversation, however; he was busily trying to keep Crabbe and Goyle from killing their flobberworms.

"You _morons_! These things are _indestructible_, you _can't_ kill them! And yet, somehow, you manage it _every_ time! Don't stick your fingers down their throats! Really, they should have nice sharp teeth to keep you from doing that. Out, out, out. Forget it. Give me those!" He took their flobberworms, rather roughly. "_You_ tear lettuce, _I'll_ feed them." He then settled in for what actually _is_ a difficult task, feeding three at once.

Harry tried to keep his eyes on his work and off Draco, but it wasn't easy. He got the distinct feeling that Hermione was watching him. In an attempt to avoid her gaze, he glanced at Ron.

The red head's face was lined in concentration that seemed focused on the Slytherin trio. Harry knew what that meant. Any minute now, Ron was going to make an ass out of himself trying to pick a fight with Malfoy. This wouldn't be pretty.

Draco was having his own problems. Crabbe and Goyle were handing him huge, roughly torn pieces of lettuce which he then had to tear smaller to use as he tried to keep up with all three worms. "Can't even shred lettuce right," he muttered, more to himself than to the table, Harry guessed.

Ron took his, well, what he _thought_ was his opportunity. "It's so _hard_ to find good help these days." He mocked Draco's speech pattern, but somehow missed the distinct drawl Harry was used to hearing. It was like listening to someone obliviously sing flat.

Harry considered Ron's position on the list. Why _had_ he put Ron on it? Because Ron, and not Harry, was really Draco's enemy. He was the one who started the fights. This probably explained why Draco won so much. But why wouldn't Draco want him to know his secret? If Ron had something like that, he might actually win an argument.

Speaking of arguments, Ron was trying to start one. Draco looked at him from under raised eyebrows. He wouldn't take this for long. Harry reached out and put a warning hand on Ron's arm. The redhead shot him a curious glance. Hermione was _definitely_ looking at them, no, at _him_. And so was Draco; he felt like a sore thumb. He pulled his hand back and recommitted himself to his flobberworm.

After this brief pause, Ron picked back up. "So, Malfoy, finding that maybe you picked the wrong friends?"

"Weasel, you have no say in my choice of friends, as I don't have a choice in yours." He glanced to Harry. Harry was starting to feel like he had been entirely left out of something. Not to mention, Draco seemed to be trying to _avoid_ an argument.

Ron seemed dead set on one. "What? Do you think I chose badly? Tell me, Malfoy. What do you think?"

Draco's features remained calm, but his eyes belied fear, albeit temporarily. Fear? What was he afraid of? "No, Weasel, you haven't chosen poorly. Your friends have."

Ron turned beet red. "Why…you…" Harry knew this was going to happen. Every time Ron started one of these arguments, he ran out of things to say. He always ended up stuttering stupidly at Draco.

Draco looked up at Ron. "Weasel? Let it go. Just give up." With that, he dismissed Ron and paid no further attention to the red head's stammerings.

Harry had figured that Ron was a weak addition to the list. Draco didn't care at all what he thought or knew. It simply didn't matter. He sighed. His list was down to two, and his flobberworm was, slowly but surely, scooting off down the table.


	8. Audrey

Audrey Earenheart, seventh year, Hufflepuff. Harry had no idea how she was connected to Draco, but he knew he had heard her name with his. Never really aloud, but quietly, secretly. Could she be different from the rest of the list?

However, he had never seen Draco interact with her. Maybe he just hadn't noticed. He would have to pay closer attention. Did Draco have any classes with the Hufflpuffs? He did take Advanced Arithmancy. Could she be there? It was time to talk to Hermione.

Transfiguration. Harry scribbled a note to his friend.

_Hermione, Is Draco in your Arithmancy class?_

She wrote back. 

_Yes. Why? Is this that game? Or something else?_

He thought for a moment.

_Yes, it's the dare. I have to finish it. Is Audrey Earenheart in that class too?_

_Yes. What does that have to do with anything?_

_Nothing. Never mind. When is that class?_

Hermione gave him a sidelong look, but she wrote back.

_Next._

_Thanks._

She looked funnily at him again. What class did he have next? Auras. He tried so hard to get out of Divination and where did he land? Auras with Professor Trelawney. Some one truly hated him. Well, he had no qualms about skipping _that_ class. He'd just tell her he was following a butterfly with an interesting trail.

Class ended and Harry took the five minute break to sprint back to his dorm after whispering to Ron, "If Trelawney asks, I'm…dead or something."

This time, he knew where his invisibility cloak was. He slipped into the Arithmancy class some five minutes after it started and carefully positioned himself. Out of Professor Sinistra's path, but where he could clearly see Draco. And watch him. And watch him. The git was actually working. And it was boring work.

He contented himself watching Draco work, his face set in concentration. He wondered what Draco was thinking. His mind wandered along these lines for quite some time. Then he noticed Draco drop a note.

He snapped out of his reverie and watched as Draco tapped the note across the room with his foot. A very pretty girl (was that Audrey?) picked it up. She read the note, then tore it up. Harry watched the pieces flutter to the floor.

"Accio scraps." The pieces swept across the floor to him. He gathered them together. "Reparo."

Draco's and was scrawled across the parchment. _My room. Nine._

Harry looked back up at the girl he assumed to be Audrey. She caught Draco's eye, smiled and nodded. Draco's face was actually rather grim, though he smiled and nodded back.

Harry considered leaving then, but decided to stay and watch Draco work. Anyway, if he left, where would he go? To Auras? He took the remaining time to think about how to be in Draco's room when Audrey arrived. He wondered what she was coming for.

It was eight thirty. "Serpent's Sanctuary." He made one last check of his invisibility cloak and sneaked back down the hall to Draco's room.

Unlocking the door, he climbed into the bureau again. A few minutes later, he heard Draco come back into the room. He dressed rather quickly and headed out again. He hadn't spoken a word. Several minutes later, Harry heard the door open again. Giggling floated into the room. That would be Audrey.

The door shut with a bang as Audrey's giggles were abruptly muffled. Even the muffled giggles soon died out and Harry wondered if they were still breathing. Then she spoke, rather coyly.

"You kept me waiting out there, you know."

"Audrey, don't quibble about timing." She let out a sharp cry, then a small moan. Harry suddenly realized what he had just gotten himself into.

There was a rustle of covers. "You _always_ pull the comforter down. So neat." Then the springs of the bed squeaked. Harry's mind raced. What was he going to do? Would a silencing charm on the bureau keep their voices out? Should he perhaps even just come out before things got too far? He heard her moan again. Damn.

Several articles of clothing hit the floor. Harry put his hands over his ears. He would just sit like this; he wouldn't listen. But how would he know when they were done? What were they doing now? He took his hands back off of his ears. There was no way he was going to be able to keep them there.

Her moans were coming more frequently. Then Draco spoke. "I…" he trailed off.

"Here, let me help." Harry heard the faint clicking of bra hooks and the sound of it landing near the bureau. There was a silent moment. "Touch. Come here." Any protest Draco was about to make was lost in the muffle of her mouth. Harry felt sick.

Another series of clothing hit the floor, assumably Draco's. Harry's suspicion was confirmed when she spoke again. "And who's down here? Peek-a-boo! Aw…come up and see me!" This time, he heard Draco moan.

Harry was ashamed to think it, but he was enjoying this a bit. He started to make a game of guessing who would moan next. In reality, he was always hoping it would be Draco, his voice was so smooth and low. Hers was sharp and grating.

And it _was_ Draco for a while. Harry could only guess what Audrey was doing to him out there. He heard the rhythmic creaking of the springs for a minute or two, then Draco bit back a cry and it was silent for a moment.

"Did you like that, babe?" Her voice interrupted the silence.

"Mmm…" Harry decided that was affirmative.

"Good," she purred. Or, at least, Harry figured she _tried_ to purr. Her voice still grated on him. "Are you ready to go again?"

"Mmm…"

"Draco? Snap out of it! Are you ready to go again or not?" Damn, she lost her temper fast enough.

"Huh? Oh, well, yes, we can start." Draco sounded a bit disoriented.

The room returned to silence, punctuated occasionally by her moans. After several minutes, it was broken, by her again. "Well?"

"Give me a few minutes."

"'A few minutes.' It's _always_ 'a few minutes.' I thought Malfoys were supposed to be _good_ at this!"

"Malfoys _are_ good at this."

She began to continue her tirade, but was muffled with what sounded like near violence.

Shortly, the rhythmic creaking was back, along with her moans, so piercing Harry decided that covering his ears wouldn't have helped anyway. After several minutes of this, the pace quickened and Audrey shouted, "Draco!" Draco bit back another groan.

The silence was deafening. Just when Harry didn't think he'd be able to stand it any longer, he heard someone walking around the room. The click of bra hooks revealed it to be Audrey, dressing to leave. Assumably after donning all of her clothes, she opened the door, but only a crack. "Draco?" she whispered, "Sorry about what I said earlier, about Malfoys. You know that you're the manliest there is. Tomorrow?"

Draco muttered, "Can't. Quidditch."

Liar. Harry knew that the Ravenclaw team had the pitch tomorrow night; he had tried to book it.

"All right then, we'll talk."

"No, we won't. I don't talk to you. You know that. We come here, we do this, and that's it. Don't ever expect more."

She sniffled. "All right…" A soft click of the door told Harry she was gone.

Draco moaned and Harry heard him throw the covers back. What came next, Harry _had_ heard before, every so often in the dorms. The heavy breathing and occasional moans. But how could Draco be jerking off? Unless…had he not finished when she left?

"Laundrum." Harry heard a sound like wind blowing through Draco's room. Then he heard Draco climb back into the bed. His breathing slowed to an even pace. He was asleep.

Harry crept carefully out of the bureau and past the bed, taking note of the lit wand on the bedside table in the continued absence of the fairies.

Well, she was the wrong answer. He had thought she was, perhaps, a girlfriend or respectable acquaintance. She was a fuckbuddy and Draco didn't seem to have any respect for her at all. Another one bites the dust. Harry only had one name left on his list.


	9. Eric

Harry woke up inexplicably early the next morning. He tossed and turned and finally decided that he just felt…dirty. He got up and stumbled into the showers. With the warm sluice of water came the memories of the night before. Now he felt even dirtier. Had he really sat in that bureau through all of that? And he was so tired. He hadn't even been up that late.

He spent over half an hour in the shower, scrubbing and rescrubbing. This dare was going too far. Did it really matter who knew that Draco Malfoy was afraid of the dark? He sighed and turned the water off. There was only one person left on the list anyway.

Eric Nalemen was another enigma. A seventh year prefect from Ravenclaw, somehow some people knew he was connected to Draco. Harry had met him and, for a Ravenclaw, he seemed to have a pretty serious…dark…streak. Yes, 'dark' seemed like the right word. His guess was that Draco, the Silver Prince of Slytherin, was reporting to quiet, dark Eric Nalemen.

Harry's first class today was Ancient Runes. Eric was in that class, that's where Harry had met him, under the benign supervision of Professor Binns. He arrived early to make sure he could see Eric.

Just before class started, Ron wandered in and sat beside him. "Why are we sitting over here?"

Harry glanced at him quickly. "The dare." Then he retrained his eyes on Eric, who really wasn't so awful to watch. Professor Binns floated in through the wall and began droning on about the ancients and writing styles.

Shortly, Harry saw Draco's eagle owl quietly alight on the windowsill. Eric carefully and equally quietly opened the window and took the note. He read it, scribbled something on it, and handed it back to the well-behaved bird.

Harry decided it was time for a bathroom trip. He stood up and took the tracking device. It would mark him on a map behind the teacher's desk while he was out. He hurried out into the hall and pitched the little marble into the bathroom. Having taken care of that, he quickly ran out onto the grounds.

Once he was clear of the castle, he stopped and scanned the sky. There! The owl was just gliding around the side of the building. "Accio owl!" He concentrated on the struggling bird, pulling it to him.

"Calm _down_!" The owl was panicking. Harry grappled with the flailing bird and finally got a hold of the note. How he got it away without tearing it on the owl's claws he would never know.

Once he got it, he let go of the owl and ran. The bird was in pursuit almost immediately. Harry ran in a large circle while he opened the note.

_When?_ That was Draco's handwriting.

_8:00_ He assumed that to be Eric's.

Harry ducked and held the note up in the air as the huge owl swooped down on him. It snatched the note, scraping his hand, and flew off haughtily. Harry wondered where they were meeting. He put his scratched hand in his mouth to stem the bleeding.

He rushed back into the building to retrieve the tracking device from the bathroom. After chasing it around the toilet for what felt like eternity, he finally got back to class. Slipping into his seat, he accidentally bumped Ron, who was in a deep stupor. His elbow fell out from under his chin and his head snapped up. "Wha?"

"Shh…I was just in the bathroom, that's all…"

"Oh…" Ron put his head back on his hand and checked out.

Harry considered the note. Eight o'clock? Draco showered at 8:15. Could he even meet Eric and get back that fast? Well, he would find out. He would have to follow him tonight.

The sleepy feel of Binns' lecture began to take hold of him and he put his head down on his desk. Soon, he drifted off, and he dreamed.

_He saw Draco's room. Draco was sitting on the bed and the comforter was turned down. He walked over to the bureau and opened the door, looking over his shoulder at the blonde. Draco remained on the bed, staring at the door. Harry stepped into the bureau, closed the door, and turned around. _

_He was standing at the head of Draco's bed. He got down on his hands and knees and tapped Draco on the shoulder. He turned and looked mildly surprised. Harry smiled, but did not open his mouth. Out of nowhere came the piercing voice from the night before. _

_"You kept me waiting out there, you know." He sat down in surprise. _

_Draco slipped a hand around his waist, pulling him in close. "Don't quibble about timing." _

_Draco's lips covered his own, drowning any protests he might have made. As though out of instinct, Harry reached back to wrench the comforter out of the way, but encountered only sheets. He broke the kiss. Once more, Audrey's voice interrupted. "You _always_ pull the comforter down. So neat." _

_Since Harry's mouth was 'occupied,' Draco latched on to the spot where his chin met his neck. Hands ran down his shirt in search of a hem. Harry's stomach sank deliciously toward his toes and one of Audrey's moans permeated the air. _

_The hands found their hem and started to ride up under the cloth. Suddenly, the heel of Draco's hand dug up under his ribs. The room melted around him. The pain in his ribs came again. He snapped awake._

"Wha?"

"You okay, mate? You sounded like you were…"

Harry realized what had happened and tried to cover. "I'm fine." He moved pieces of parchment around on his desk.

"Did you hurt your hand? I thought that might be it. You should have Madam Pomfrey look at that."

Harry had forgotten his bleeding hand. He looked at it again. The cut looked bad, but it didn't really hurt anymore and it had scabbed over. "Yeah, it hurts a bit." He cradled it.

He glanced up to see if Ron bought the excuse and saw Eric shoot him a strange look. What was that for?

7:50. Under the invisibility cloak once again, Harry followed Draco from the entrance to the Slytherin common room. The blonde seemed rushed, hurrying up and down halls. As he finally slowed, Harry recognized their location. This was the Room of Requirement.

Draco pulled the door open and Harry made to follow him in. Unfortunately, the cloak caught on a suit of armor and was pulled off him. Luckily, Draco didn't see him and went into the room. Harry ducked back and wrenched the cloak off the suit of armor, yanking it back over his head. He straightened it out and turned around to see Eric coming down the hall.

He pressed up against the wall and hoped that Eric hadn't seen him. It seemed he hadn't, as he opened the door and entered, giving Harry only just enough time to slip in.

It was…a bedroom? The door closed behind him. He couldn't leave. He had managed it again, what would he do now? There was no out, the room was entirely unfurnished bar the bed. Before Harry even recovered from the shock of the room, Eric kissed Draco and Draco began pulling off Eric's clothes.

There was no conversation. No neat folding down of comforters. Clothes disappeared off of their owner and reappeared on the floor as if by magic. Harry could do nothing more than stand against the wall. An inner demon held his eyes open, kept him from looking away. Like a train wreck, except much, much better.

The two boys on the bed attacked each other with a fire, a hunger Harry could only imagine having. They were nude, a mess of hands and feet, some pale as the moon, some tanned brown. And the hands, the hands were everywhere.

For just a moment, Eric pushed himself up off Draco and tossed jet black hair out of his dark face. Draco ran softly manicured white hands up his chest, around under his arms, and down his back, pulling at the small of his back as he arched his own body to reclaim the Ravenclaw's lips. Harry couldn't stand any longer. He slid down the wall to the floor.

There was silence as he watched the bodies writhe before him. Then Draco moaned. The boys muttered at each other in between and during desperate kisses.

"Quickly, I have to get back on duty." Eric was apparently shirking.

"But…" Draco moaned again. "All right, now then."

"Now?" Eric seemed almost teasing. He rolled off of Draco, away from Harry, and ran a painfully slow hand down the blonde's chest. Harry felt himself harden.

Draco moaned. "Now!" he hissed.

Eric began running his hand methodically back up Draco's torso as he carefully eased his weight back onto the Slytherin's body. "Are you sure?"

Harry tried not to watch, but couldn't tear his eyes away as the pair writhed on the bed, milking every moment they spent. But, it seemed, it was over too soon. Suddenly, Draco was gathering his clothing. He stammered nervously.

"Well, you need to get back to the pitch, Roger won't cover for you for too long. I…need to get back to my…homework. Yes, I must go…back." This train continued until Draco ducked apologetically out the door. Eric was still lying, calmly nude, on the bed.

Once the door shut, Nalemen, ever composed, alighted to the floor. As he began to put his clothes on, he addressed the empty room. "Well, that was fun, wasn't it?" Or did he? "Enjoy playing voyeur, Potter?"

Harry froze.

"I know you're there. An invisibility cloak, an interesting idea. But you failed to remain hidden. So, did you have fun?"

Harry began to pull off the cloak. Eric seemed to sense the movement and cut him off. "No need to show yourself, we both know you're here. _He_ doesn't, however." He nodded toward the door and pulled his shirt on, reaching for his robe. He donned it and put a hand on the doorknob. "Potter. Meet me here at the same time tomorrow night. And bring that cloak, or he _might_ find out."

With that, the dark boy exited, leaving Harry to his own thoughts. but he didn't know what to think. All right, start at the top. Eric is the wrong answer. Another fuckbuddy. He doesn't have any respect for Draco anyway. Then again, his original concept was wrong. Draco's deepest secret wasn't his fear of the dark. It was this. Draco Malfoy was gay. Bi? Let's _say_ bi. And tomorrow night? He had to come. He didn't sleep well that night.


	10. Harry

7:50. Harry, again beneath the cloak, stood by the suit of armor. He nervously glanced up and down the hall. There was Eric. The Ravenclaw stopped outside the door to the Room of Requirement.

"Are you here, Potter?"

Harry was silent.

"Answer me, are you here?"

"Yes." Harry spoke low and quiet, obviously unhappy with this situation.

"Good. Follow me." He opened the door and stepped inside, holding it open for Harry. After a moment, he shut it and turned around. "Don't take off that cloak, Potter. Stand over by that wall. No, I suggest you sit. Are you there?"

Harry sat by the wall, did he have another option? "Yes."

"Then I will tell you why you are here." Eric began pacing the room. "You are here to learn. I guarantee you that you will learn things tonight you never expected to know." Harry had no idea what was going on. "You will come to understand. Now, Draco will be here shortly. You will stay there and stay quiet."

"Wait –" Harry started to argue.

"You are not in a position to contradict, Potter."

"Nalemen, I am backed into a corner right now. But I warn you. Don't screw with me again."

"Right, Potter." Eric's voice was sarcastic. "Just keep your mouth shut."

They sat in silence. When eight o'clock rolled around, Eric stood and walked to the door. It opened and Draco walked right into his arms. Eric closed the door quickly and kissed Draco, pulling the blonde onto his toes. Soon, the Slytherin moaned quietly. Eric broke the kiss to speckle light touches down Draco's jaw line and neck to his shoulder, pulling the clothing out of his way as he went. As he reached Draco's collarbone, he stopped and glanced up in Harry's general direction, grinning maniacally.

In the pause, Draco pulled back. "Ravenclaw's on the pitch again tonight?"

"No." Eric kissed him again, running his hands up under Draco's shirt. He began to lead Draco toward the bed, taking clothing off as he went. They reached the edge and Draco sat down heavily.

"No? Then why tonight? How did you get away?"

"Don't worry about it." The dark boy placed a knee on either side of the Slytherin. "Drake?"

Draco looked worried. "What?"

"Will you do me a favor?" He brushed his fingers over the pale chest before him.

"A favor?"

"Yes. Let me blindfold you."

Draco blinked. "Blindfold?"

Eric drew a blindfold from his pocket. "Yes. Humor me."

Draco reached up to Eric's shoulder and ran his hand along the Ravenclaw's shirt. He stopped at the edge of his pants, and then nodded. Eric carefully tied the blindfold on.

"Can you see?"

"No."

"Good." Eric turned toward Harry and mimed covering his ears a few times. Harry got the message and plugged his ears thoroughly. They had studied this in Charms. He was going to use a mesmer on Draco.

A mesmer was very advanced magic, rarely taught due to its potential as a dark arts tool. As Harry watched, Eric muttered his mesmer multiple times, until Draco sat slightly slumped on the bed. Finally, he stopped and waved a hand, indicating that Harry could uncover his ears.

"Don't worry about him, he's mesmerized." Eric addressed Harry.

"I know."

"Ah, so you _have_ heard of the mesmer. Good. Then you will follow what happens next without more explanation from me. I encourage you to watch, and enjoy," he laughed dryly, "but be quiet. I don't want you to affect the outcome."

The outcome? Eric seemed far too pleased with himself. But there was little Harry could do at this point. Eric turned to Draco.

"Draco Malfoy, can you hear me?"

"Yes." Draco's voice in no way belied his mesmerized state. It was strong and sharp, even slightly irritated.

"Wonderful." Eric pulled off his own shirt so that both boys wore only their pants. He shifted so that he straddled the sitting form, his ankles lightly crossed behind Draco. His hands slid up the Slytherin's shoulders to cup his head as Eric caught his lips in a kiss. Draco responded, leaning into the kiss and wrapping his arms around Eric's waist. The brunette broke the kiss and moved his mouth close to Draco's ear. He spoke so quietly, Harry almost couldn't hear him.

"Draco, release reality." Draco's arms fell limply to Eric's thighs. He continued. "I am someone. You know who. I am the person you most want me to be. The person you want to spend every night with. That is me. Understood?"

As he spoke, Draco's hands seemed to regain life. They slid under Eric's butt and pulled him in closer. In fact, it seemed that the blonde was already licking and teasing at Eric's throat when the question was posed. He did, however, answer. "Yes, kiss me."

Eric glanced toward Harry and his eyes flashed. Was that jealousy? Then he obliged, kissing Draco to an enthusiastic response. He elicited small moans with almost no effort. Not breaking the kiss, he worked his way back onto his knees, lying Draco back on the bed, though his legs still hung off to the floor.

When he finally did break the kiss, it was to speak. "Get up on the bed." Draco obliged, lying blindfolded in the center of the bed and waiting. Eric didn't make him wait long. Quick as a flash, he straddled Draco on his hands and knees, dropping his head into a kiss. Draco moaned again and his hands began to fumble with the front of Eric's pants.

"No, no, not for me." Eric sounded almost pained saying that. He dropped and began kissing Draco's throat. From there, he began to work his way down.

The look on Draco's face was ten different shades of erotic. Eric was still working on Draco and had begun speaking.

"Who am I, Draco?"

The blonde moaned and thrust into his hand.

"Draco, what is my name?"

Another moan and Eric sped up. His voice took on a tone of ultimate command. "Say my name!"

Draco's back arched. His cry rang around the room:

"Harry!"


	11. Conversations

All of the sudden, the connections were made. Harry realized everything. He froze. Time stopped.

Eric was looking at him.

He knew. He knew all along.

Harry knew Eric couldn't see him, but he met his eyes anyway. Green. His eyes were incredibly…green.

He suddenly looked familiar, very familiar. Of course, Harry saw him in class all of the time. But more familiar. It was like…looking in a mirror. Eric looked almost exactly like him.

All right, the world was officially screwing with him. Harry wanted to shout at it to cut it out. But he couldn't. Eric had told him to be quiet and he didn't need him to tell Draco where he had been.

The world began to move again. Eric began talking to Draco again. "Draco. You will remember none of this. Instead, remember a night like the last time. Potter, stay under that cloak." He began muttering under his breath. Last time? Draco came back to himself.

"Mmm…"

"Yes?" Eric immediately fell into conversation with him.

"Can I take the blindfold off?"

"Yes, you can. I have to get back to the tower."

Draco undid the blindfold, handing it back to Eric. Then, as before, he quickly dressed, making excuses all of the way out the door.

Eric began to pull on his shirt. "Don't come out from under the cloak. Just stay where you are." There was a pause as Eric sat back down on the bed, looking suddenly weary. "Well, did I tell you you were going to learn something?"

Harry's mouth moved, but for a moment nothing came out. Then he found his voice. "Yes, you did. But how did you -"

"Know? Potter, it is not your place to pry into my life, but I will answer that." Eric breathed deeply. "I have done that once before. Draco and I have been meeting like this for almost a year. It always goes the same way. We both need this, but for different reasons. Draco's needs were being satisfied with less than you might think. He never gave his all. I knew it."

Eric hadn't looked at Harry through all of this. "And your…reason?"

"My reason is not your problem." His voice was sharp. "Either way, I knew that Draco wasn't giving me his all, but I also knew that there had to be someone he would give it to. So, one night, I blindfolded him, I put him under a mesmer. I told him I was whoever her wanted. Then I just let him go. I hate to say, it was probably the best night of my life." He looked up at Harry, something akin to guilt in his eyes.

"But I couldn't leave well enough alone. I couldn't just take amazing sex and be happy. I had to know who was this special, who deserved this more than I did. So, I asked. I made him tell me, as hard as he tried not to. You can guess what he said."

Eric looked down again. "It's one thing to know you're a replacement. It's another to know who you're replacing. I made up a night to place in his memory and got out as fast as possible. I never told him I knew. Only you…" he trailed off.

"But, why?"

Eric's face hardened. He laughed sharply. "Mostly to watch you squirm."

"Mostly? Why else?"

The face softened again. "Almost a year. I think maybe I have actually grown to like him. Just maybe."

Harry's head spun. He felt sick and dizzy. There was just so much to think about. He stumbled to the door and left, still under the cloak, without another word to Eric.

"Hermione!" Harry burst into the library, his cloak trailing in his hand behind him.

"Shh!" Madam Pince glared at him warningly. He looked frantically around the shelves and tables. He had to find her. She was the only one who could know what to do.

"Hermione!" He skidded around the end of yet another shelf.

"Mr. Potter, if you insist on shouting, I shall ask you to leave." Madam Pince's voice was deadly quiet even though she was on the other side of the library, speaking through at least a dozen shelves.

But there she was. Hermione was sitting at a table, almost entirely hidden by books. He ran up to the table, knocking over a pile of volumes.

"Hey -" Hermione looked up.

"Hermione." Harry managed to keep his voice quiet. "I've got to talk to you."

"But Harry, I'm studying."

"Screw the studying! This is a matter of life and…well, my life!" His voice was rising again. Hermione put a finger to her mouth to quiet him.

"What is it Harry?"

He glanced around; he couldn't see anyone nearby. "I…I don't even know where to start. First there's Draco…" Hermione's eyes perked up. "…and me…and -"

She interrupted him. "Oh, Harry. You don't have to keep going. I already know."

He stopped abruptly. "You do?"

"Yes!" She grabbed Harry's hands. "It's all right. I don't care if you like Draco Malfoy. Being gay is just as natu -"

"What?" Harry nearly fell into the seat next to her. "Who said anything about liking him? I'm talking about having to watch some Ravenclaw screw him and him saying my name!" His voice, once again, surpassed a 'library' volume.

"Shh…Oh, Harry. Come on, let's go somewhere else."

She took him to a small room he had never seen before. That explained why she and Ron disappeared so much. All it contained was a couch and a bookshelf. She sat him down on the couch. "All right. I suggest you start at the beginning and I won't jump to conclusions."

He sighed and began with the dare. She looked disapproving, but kept her mouth shut. He told her briefly about the different people on the list. She nodded a lot, though she seemed surprised by some of his list choices, commenting particularly when he reached her. "Like me? Malfoy? I think you were a bit misguided, Harry."

"I know." He continued and finally reached Audrey. He awkwardly recounted the general events of his evening in the bureau.

She made a face. "Audrey Earenheart, really?"

"Yes, but don't tell."

"I know."

He then moved on to that first night in the Room of Requirement. "Eric Nalemen? I always though he looked like you." When he finished with the night's awkward recollection, she stopped him. "Is this going to be a review of Draco's sordid sex life? Because there is no point to that."

"No, we're up to tonight. Eric made me come back, because he caught me. And Draco came too. He made me hide and he used a mesmer on Draco…he blindfolded him too. He told Draco to pretend he was the person he most wanted. Then he…well, you know. Only he kept asking what his name was. He asked over and over, then Draco…he said my name. It was so loud. Me?"

Harry lapsed into silence. Hermione let him have it for a few moments; then she reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. "Harry? What is there for me to say? It's, well, obvious that he…likes you. The question left for you is: Do you like him?"

Given the question directly, Harry looked back up at her. Did he like Draco? The blonde face flashed in his mind. First, sneering as he so often was; then suddenly smiling, like he had in that classroom when they were talking about quidditch. He thought about their time on the pitch and how, even when they were playing against each other, he felt a connection to the other seeker, one that didn't exist in his other games. He thought of the hospital wing and waiting to see Draco emerge from behind the curtain. Finally, his mind flashed to the dream from Binns' class and he saw, almost felt, himself kiss Draco. "I…you know what? I think I do."

"I knew it!" Hermione threw her arms around his neck. "You two are going to be so cute together!"


	12. Qualms

"Now, wait!" Harry pulled her off him. She looked at him questioningly. "Even if I _do_ like him, I am not jumping to 'together.' We've hated each other for so long…"

"Maybe you've both been hiding." Hermione could always be so calm and reasoning.

"The school would never accept us."

"It won't be a problem, trust me."

"But his father won't ever…"

"Maybe he needs support for that exact reason."

A lead ball of dread fell into his stomach. "And the Dursleys…"

"And you do too."

He was running out of 'good' excuses. "The Slytherins?"

"I'm sure he'll deal with it."

"And the Gryffindors?"

"Want you to be happy. They'll get it."

"Ron?"

"Percy's gay, and Ron wants you to be happy too, he'll be fine."

Harry cast around for anything else. "But, he's afraid of the dark!"

"We're all afraid of something. Maybe you can be his light."

Ew, she was starting to sound like a greeting card. He was out of excuses. He thought for a moment, then his mouth blurted what he was trying not to say. "But he sleeps around!"

"Oh, Harry." Hermione took his hands yet again. "Harry." She sighed. "I can't make you accept that, no one can. It is something you will have to make your own decision about. All I can say is, try to remember where he's coming from."

"What, sex every other night?"

"No, his family, his house, his background. Harry, I think you two need each other."

Harry was so confused. He didn't know what to think or do. He felt tears pricking at the backs of his eyes. His sarcasm broke through. "He needs me to what? Save him from an STD?" Hermione looked at him disapprovingly.

"Harry, why don't you go to bed. Don't think too much about it tonight. You'll have time to work it out."

He wandered back to the tower in a complete daze. Hermione had returned to the library. He climbed into his four poster, ignoring his slumbering roommates. He pulled the curtains shut and laid back, but he couldn't sleep. How could he _not_ think about it? He was gay. Or bi? Let's _say_ bi.

Great, now Draco was bi and liked Harry. And Harry was bi and liked Draco. It seemed so simple. Boy likes boy; they should be together. There was that word again, 'together.' And there was so much in between.

He tossed and turned. There would be little sleep for him tonight. Wait. Did he even have to _tell_ Draco? Did he have to admit things had changed? Couldn't he just pretend everything was the same? That's what he would do. Only Eric and Hermione knew. He could just ignore it. He rolled over.

He was almost asleep when he sat up suddenly. The dare! He had to finish the dare, and now he knew all of the information. Draco's deepest secret was some cross between being bi and liking Harry. Who didn't he want to tell? Harry. So now Harry had to make the blonde tell him. There was no avoiding it.

Harry slept miserably.

"Two more weeks. Time's up."

He blinked and saw the boys gathered around his bed. Seamus had spoken. Ron interrupted him.

"Harry, you had his secret, do you know who he has to tell?"

He sat up, suddenly remembering what they were talking about. He considered a moment. He couldn't lie, he did know. He nodded.

"Good!" Seamus stepped back in. "Then all you have left to do is make him tell them. Now, you'll have to be able to prove you did it."

It was Dean's turn to interrupt. "How do you expect him to do that?"

Seamus looked at him. "Er…well…you have to…make him do it in the Great Hall. So we can see."

Harry looked up sharply. "I can't do that to him!"

"What, are you going to forfeit your dare?"

He slumped back in his bed. "No. I'll do it."

"You have until dinner."

He opened his mouth to protest, but the boys had all left for breakfast. He stood up and went to the mirror. He looked like shit. Funny, he felt like shit too. He dropped his head in his hands.

"I am so screwed."

His reflection laughed quietly. "No pun intended."


	13. Enlistment

_Eric_

Harry stopped writing. How could he phrase this? Binns' sleepy voice washed over him. He started writing.

_I need your help. I have to make Draco admit it. Harry._

That was lame. But what else could he write? He dropped it on the floor by his foot. "_Wingardium Leviosa_." He kept it low to the ground and steered it over next to Eric's foot.

The Ravenclaw looked at it and wrote something back, sending it back Harry's direction. He picked it up.

_Potter, I don't know what you _think_ I'm going to help you with. Let me be clear. You were raised by muggles, right? Drake and I are business acquaintances. I don't plan on losing business._

What? Harry was thoroughly confused. Eric must have noticed, the note flew away and quickly returned.

_Isn't that what business men do? Screw each other over?_

Harry looked up. Eric looked smug. He wrote back.

_All right, ha ha funny. Look, this isn't something I _want_ to do, it's something I _have_ to do. I have to make him say it, tonight, in the Great Hall._

Eric responded with a question.

_You have to?_

_It's a dare._ He was rather ashamed to admit that, but he really didn't have a choice.

_A dare? And the Gryffindor has to complete his dare. You know, Potter, this is uproariously funny. What do you think I'm going to do?_

Harry struggled with his answer; he knew what he wanted to say but it sounded so much worse on paper.

_At dinner tonight, kiss me, in front of him._

_Wait. Alright, so you want me to kiss a guy I have never shown any interest in. You want me to do it in public. So I'm out. And the result is most likely the loss of my business acquaintance. Not to mention I would be out right helping the Golden Boy of Gryffindor. I get absolutely nothing out of that._

_I'll let you borrow my invisibility cloak for one night, any night, name it._ He hated the idea, but he had to offer something.

_Come out, for one night's convenience?_

It pained him, but he wrote: _A week then._

_Ten days, at my discretion._

_All right._

_I'll do it._

_It's got to be in front of Draco, and convincing._

_I'll take care of it, and don't worry about convincing, don't make assumptions based on my not _showing_ interest._

"_Incendio._" Harry burned the note. Now he just had to wait until dinner.

Harry sat at dinner, his knee bounced in anxious tension. Ron and Hermione sat across from him, looking a bit worried. Hermione seemed particularly anxious too. Ron looked entirely confused, but didn't seem to want to disturb them.

Harry looked over his shoulder to the Slytherin table; Draco sat, entirely unknowing, eating with Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy. Eric sat calmly just behind Harry, smirking at life.

Suddenly, there was a flurry of action at the door to the hall. "Draco Malfoy!" A voice shrieked as Audrey Earenheart ran into the hall, absolutely livid. Ron looked up and Hermione shut her eyes and ducked her head a bit.

The raging Hufflepuff reached the Slytherin table, slamming her hands down on the wood, knocking over goblets and serving trays. "Draco Malfoy! I can't _believe_ you! You've been screwing some hussy on the side!"

Draco began to stand, it was hard to tell if he intended to terrorize or apologize. She didn't let him do either. "I don't care who she is! I don't ever want to hear from you again! You…you slug!"

With that, she stormed off to the Hufflepuff table, leaving Draco to make sure his hair was still in place and carefully adapt an affronted look.

Eric stood up. Harry couldn't believe it, this couldn't happen now! Not right after that! "You've been shagging _her_?" Harry almost believed the indignation in his voice. Draco's eyes turned to Eric like a deer caught in headlights. He looked like he had just stepped in front of the Hogwarts Express. "Deal's off Drake! And here I've been, faithful to you, despite anything else I've wanted to do!"

He turned and grabbed Harry's arm, pulling him out of his seat. Spinning Harry around, he roughly planted his mouth over the Gryffindor's. Once there, Harry thought Eric might never let go - and he had been worried about being convincing. The Ravenclaw forced his mouth open, sliding his tongue between Harry's teeth. Harry heard Audrey wail and run out of the Hall. Then another voice.

"_Expelliarmus_!"

Eric flew back from Harry, landing up against one of the Gryffindor table benches. Almost immediately, Draco was standing over him, wand out. He growled through clenched teeth. "I don't know how you found out. I don't know and I don't care. But you keep your _filthy_ hands off of him!"

Eric looked up at him. "He's not yours, Drake. He's not yours to love or protect."

"I will love whoever I damn well please!" Draco's voice rose in volume. Harry took that moment to notice that Eric had fallen right near Dean, Seamus, and Neville as he stood miserably watching the scene play out.

Eric responded, "Why don't you tell _him_ that?"

Harry began to wonder, Eric hadn't moved. Was he hurt? "Eric?"

Draco turned on him. He glared. He fumed. Harry saw his namesake, the dragon. Then his shouting began, each word a scythe, sharp and uncontrolled. "No! Not Eric! Damn it Potter, if you're going to kiss anyone, it had better fucking well be _me_!"

Silence fell like an injured hippogriff. Draco seethed for a moment longer, then reality came back to his eyes. Harry was standing, taking his sharp words with the knowledge of their content, his eyes shut and head turned to soften their blows.

Draco looked at himself, still holding Eric at wand point. He lowered his hand, sniffed, smoothed his hair, and stalked back to his seat as though expecting the entire student body to ignore the events of the previous five minutes. The Slytherins immediately obliged.

Harry looked at Seamus, Ron, Dean, and Neville. They were starting to get up, grins on their faces. He could just imagine what they would say if they got to him. "Good job, mate!" "You got him!" If Draco heard that, saw that slapping him on the back, Harry couldn't do that to him on top of this. He glared at them, wishing them to stay and hold still. They kept coming. He looked right and left, no escape. Draco was watching him, increasing dread in his eyes. Harry fled the hall, aiming for the room Hermione had shown him, no one would find him there.


	14. Meanwhile

Slytherin

Pansy wandered down the hall toward the dorms. So, Draco had a weakness. An interesting one. The impenetrable prince had a soft spot. And it was Harry Potter. He thought he could maintain his position after a display like that? Sure, it was quiet in the aftermath, but it was a contemplative quiet. Draco wouldn't long be the Prince of Slytherin. And if she had her way, there would be no Prince, only a Princess.

Crabbe and Goyle meandered aimlessly by, heading for the common room. They appeared supremely lost. She laughed to herself, soon, everything she could see would be hers, she had only to upset the weak Draco and take it, before someone else did.

Blaise sprinted by the other direction, stopping to ask her, "Pansy, have you seen Draco?"

She masked concern over her voice to match the false sound of his. "No, why? Is he missing?"

"Yes, no one has seen him since…er…dinner."

"I'm sure he will get here soon enough." So he's hiding from us. He knows. He has lost control and he will not regain it.

Hufflepuff

Justin stepped into the common room. He had been on prefect duty since dinner. He looked around and quickly found Hannah, she knew everything. "Hannah! Hannah Abbott!"

If the Hufflepuff common room was anything, it was loud. Particularly so tonight. Hannah finally turned to him. "Justin!"

"How is she?" He didn't have to specify, Hannah knew.

"She's still crying up in the dorm. I don't think she will ever stop. I wish she had told us about Malfoy, then at least we could have tried to stop her." She hung her head. "I hate to think it, but she brought this on herself. Malfoy is a louse. He could only have been using her."

Up in the girls' dorms, Audrey sobbed, curled up in her bed. She would wail and moan until someone came and told her what a creep Malfoy was and then she'd calm down. But once they stopped telling her, she would relapse and begin all over again, with wrenching cries of "It was a _guy_! Another _guy_!"

She would only say one other thing. "Who wrote the note? I want to thank her!" In her hand, she clutched the note she was referring to. For quite some time, she wouldn't let anyone see it, but one of the girls finally ripped it from her.

_Audrey, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you aren't Malfoy's only midnight rendezvous. A friend._

A voice sounded in the corner of the room. "I know that handwriting. That's Hermione Granger!"

Around him, Justin heard snippits of the other conversations in the room:

"How could he two-time her? How hard is it to…"

"He had the hottest girl in school." "Maybe he didn't want a girl." "I know…"

"She is the best of the best, the prettiest of the girls here, and we know that Hufflepuffs are pretty to begin with. How could he do that to her? To us?"

"I can't believe that even Malfoy would do that!" "I know, we can't let this happen to her." "But what can we do?" "Well, we could…"

Justin sat down. It was quite possible that Hufflepuff could be expected to, for once in their time, do the unexpected.

Ravenclaw

Eric sat comfortably in the common room, smirking at the fire and listening to the arguments around him. Who had been wronged? Everyone was doing their best to decide.

Had Audrey brought her pain upon herself? Yes, said some, Draco was a known risk. No, said others, he had hurt her far out of proportion to the calculable risk.

Had Draco deserved Eric's response? Yes, said some, his blatant disregard for the basic concepts of fidelity, even to someone he wasn't in a 'relationship' with, had earned him those actions. No, said others, Eric had been twisting the thumbscrews himself; he was known to act out of proportion and to cause unnecessary pain in the past.

Had Eric earned Draco's answer? Yes, said some, he had known about Draco's…connection…to Harry Potter, and he had purposefully pushed him to those actions. No, said others, a kiss in never grounds for an attack.

And in all of this, there were those who argued clearly that they were not in any position to judge either way. Eric continued to watch the fire burn and contemplate how to make best use of ten days with the invisibility cloak. None of these issues would ever be resolved, he knew, and he'd be best off not bothering himself with thoughts of high morals, though at some point he would probably have to produce an argument, but instead with productive use of his new acquisition. 

Gryffindor

"Merlin, Seamus, did you know it was going to be…that?" Dean shouted from his bed into the bathroom.

Seamus had a mouth full of toothpaste, but his answer was decidedly negative. He spat. "I thought, you know, he'd be afraid of the dark or something. Nothing _that_ big."

Ron stepped back into the room, toweling his hair dry. He hadn't spoken much since dinner. Hermione had run off after Harry and left him sitting by himself.

Neville, who had been laying out clothes for the next day (his uniform as usual), asked, "Where did Harry go anyway? I mean, well, I suppose he went off somewhere to figure himself out…with all that…you know."

Seamus clamored back into the room, hands over-full with toiletries. "Why don't you ever leave any of those in the toilet again?" Dean asked this question incessantly.

"Because _you_ just _use_ them!" Seamus plopped huffily on his bed and began to put things away.

"I do not." Dean got no response, since the entire company knew he was lying. He changed the conversation back to dinner, "I really just feel bad for Harry, Nalemen kissing him like that. And Malfoy…"

Ron looked a bit out of sorts, perhaps due to his particular vantage point during the evening's events. He was the only one who had been close enough to see that quick moment, that little flash, before Eric kissed Harry. The brightening of his face, just a little, but noticeable. He kicked off his slippers and pulled the curtains around his bed. He was probably imagining it anyway.

Seamus mused aloud, "I don't know, do you think Eric might be a better kisser than Lav?" He and Lavender had run a short and doomed stint the year before. He often suggested her incompetence and inability as a girlfriend while hypocritically holding her up on a pedestal for comparison. They were actually getting used to it.

_This_ comment, however, earned him a pillow from Dean and Neville's most shocked face, an expression he usually saved for a time when Snape would hop out from under his bed and tickle him. "Ewww!"

Dean elaborated. "Yeah, mate, I think Harry may have made the ultimate sacrifice for the dare there. I wouldn't dream of doing that."


	15. Recovery

Harry sat on the couch, staring at his hands and trying not to think about what just happened. Who was he kidding? That was all he _could_ think about.

Why did it surprise him so much? Could it be that he had hoped his conclusion was wrong? Had he wished the whole act would fail and Draco wouldn't be in love with him? Or was that what he feared?

He couldn't answer these questions. He closed his eyes. All he could see was Draco. Mortified Draco, looking like death had just popped up and said, "Boo!" Had he done that to him? Yes. But he hadn't meant for it to go like that. Who was he kidding? Of course he had, to some extent. Sort of.

He hated the confusion of all of this. Why did it go like that? Why did Audrey come rushing in? Why did he have to have actually _enjoyed_ it when Eric kissed him? Why did Draco have to look so hurt? He hated it. He hated himself for causing it.

He stood up. He had too much pent up energy to stay here. His general thought was of the quidditch pitch, perhaps he would just run around it screaming until everything made sense. But before he reached the door, it opened.

"Oh, Harry! I'm glad I found you. Honestly, you didn't have to make it so hard." Hermione slipped through the door and closed it quietly behind her. "Are you alright?"

Well, scratch the jog on the pitch. He sat back down. She was expecting an answer. There were only four words he seemed to have any access to, so he used them. "What have I done?"

Hermione was an amazing friend, the best anyone could ask for. She was supportive, thoughtful, intelligent. But sometimes, sometimes she couldn't quite track others' reactions to her. This was one of those times. "Well, I hate to say I told you so…"

And yet, he knew she was right. She _had_ warned him, all of them, about the game. Someone was bound to get hurt, and here they were. It wasn't even just one someone. Draco and Audrey. And Harry. Even Eric. They had all been hurt this time.

Hermione sat down next to him on the couch. She put an arm around his shoulder. "It's going to be alright."

He knew, he _knew_ she was just saying it; that she couldn't promise 'alright.' But he wanted so badly to believe it, so very badly, he just went ahead and did, just for a few minutes. He let her rub his shoulder and tell him it would be alright.

But the peace of such an unfounded thought lasts for only so long. Soon, the questions crept back. He turned to Hermione. "Was all of that my fault?"

Her face flashed with some emotion, he couldn't tell which. "No, Harry, it wasn't your fault at all."

He knew that was wrong, though it seemed she might believe it. "But it is, 'Mione. I arranged for Eric to…"

She looked vaguely surprised. "You did? But why?"

"The dare."

"Oh, Harry. You did that for a stupid dare?" He nodded miserably. "I knew that game…Well, it will be alright. We can fix it."

"Fix it? We? It's not your fault, you don't have to fix it."

"But, Harry, it is my fault. I gave Audrey the note that made her…you know."

"You did _what_?" Now it was Hermione's turn to nod in misery. Her chin shook and she rushed as though fearing a sob cutting her off.

"I put a note in her bag. I thought I would help you, with Draco. I thought, if she left him, and maybe scared Eric away, it would be easier. I really just wanted to help, Harry, honestly!" Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes. He took his turn to put an arm around her.

"I think you're right, Hermione. I think it will be alright." He wasn't in the alone. He and Hermione would fix everything. He thought about it for a few minutes as she calmed down. As her shoulders stopped shaking, she grew heavy on his shoulder. His eyelids drooped as well. They fell asleep there on the couch, buried in their problems, but hopeful all the same. 

----------------------------------------------------------

The crisp wind snapped and whistled around the castle's sharp angular contours. Suddenly, an owl leapt out of the cold sea of air. It flew out over the grounds as the sun began to rise, banking away from the quidditch pitch, where one boy was pulling another up off the ground to lead him inside. That delivery could wait.

With the skill of a long time post owl, the bird swept to the small window above Harry's head. It tapped impatiently on the glass, waking up the girl.

It would not deliver to her, however; its instruction required that it deliver only to the dark haired boy still asleep on the couch. After quietly bickering with the bird for a minute or two, the girl finally woke him up.

Once its delivery had been made, the owl soared off again. It banked around a corner and began wending its way into the dungeons to make the delivery it had neglected earlier. 

-----------------------------------------------------------

Harry rubbed his eyes behind his glasses. Then he realized that it wasn't his eyes that were blurry. He quickly wiped the lenses on his shirt, then unrolled the piece of parchment the mysterious owl had delivered. 

_Potter,  
Meet me in the Room of Requirement this Saturday night at eight. Come alone and don't bring your cloak. I have a surprise for you.  
Eric_

He stared at it. Another meeting? So soon? What for? Hermione stood nearby, looking worried. He folded up the parchment and pocketed it. "It's nothing." 

-----------------------------------------------------------

A sharp rapping at the door woke Draco up just as he was finally falling asleep. An owl? At this hour? He heaved himself out of his bed and staggered over to the door, pulling it open and slamming his eyes shut against the brighter light of the hallway. Yes, it was an owl. It flew into the room and he shut the door behind it, regarding it in the dim glow of his wand.

Damn and blast, he knew that owl. Why the hell was Eric's owl harassing him now? He pulled the parchment off the bird's leg. He couldn't read it in this light. He grabbed his wand off the bed and shone it on the note. 

_Drake,  
Meet me Saturday night at eight. We need to talk and I have a surprise for you.  
Eric_

Meet him? Draco was suspicious, and yet he had grown to trust Eric to some extent. One more meeting?

A million thoughts swirled through his already spinning head. He shut them off. Forget it, he would think about it in the morning. He tucked the parchment under his pillow. A ruckus in the corner reminded him of the presence of the second owl.

"Gunther! Home!" His eagle owl quickly alighted to its perch, leaving Eric's owl alone. Draco opened the door again to let the owl out, squinting to watch it glide down the hall. Maybe he would go. No, he wasn't thinking about it now. He shut the door and climbed back into bed, despite the fact that classes began in a few short hours. Tomorrow he would think. Tomorrow.


	16. Encounters

Friday morning, potions first. Harry was tired; a night on a couch is never good for a day of school. Especially a night interrupted by crazed post owls and foreboding notes.

Hermione had returned to the girls' dormitory after the owl departed, but Harry couldn't fall asleep. He wandered the halls and finally just went back to the dorm, showered and changed, and headed to class before his roommates even awoke.

He _had_ to have potions first this morning, class with the Slytherins. He sat alone in the dungeon classroom, not even Snape was there. In fact, Snape wasn't even the next person into the room. It was Draco.

The blonde wandered blearily into the room. His eyes fell on Harry and he stopped. His face flushed and he dropped his eyes to the ground. Harry looked away too. Malfoy took a seat across the dungeon.

When Snape did show up, he, too, paused a moment. The two boys were studiously avoiding each others' eyes. Harry wondered if Snape felt as awkward as he did. Maybe.

After some really heavy silence, the rest of the class finally started filing in. Harry was soon surrounded by the Gryffindor seventh year boys, so he didn't see everyone else's reactions. The boys were eager to give him a pat on the back.

Seamus got there first. "Hey, mate!" he clapped Harry's shoulder. "Brilliant there, yesterday."

Dean chimed in, "Yeah, bloody amazing!"

Harry smiled sadly. Yeah, great job screwing up life. Those two headed off to seats nearby, leaving him mercifully alone. Well, not exactly. Ron slid into the seat beside him and Neville in front of him.

The pudgy boy turned around again to address Harry. "It was great, Harry. I don't think I ever could have done…_that_. And I don't know _what_ I'd do if Malfoy…" he cringed a little. "Well, good job anyway." He turned back around.

Harry saw Ron out of the corner of his eye, looking like he swallowed a live hinky-punk. He could ask, but did he want the answer? He decided he didn't and pretended he hadn't noticed.

Hermione rushed in at the last moment, her hair rather more disarrayed than usual, and slid into the seat on Harry's other side, patting him on the arm. "I overslept, sorry."

Snape stood to begin the class. That was when Harry noticed the other students. Something was wrong. Draco sat across the room, a couple of kids whose names Harry didn't even know to his sides. Nearby, Pansy sat between Crabbe and Goyle, Blaise in front of them. All of the Slytherins seemed to be arrayed around this group, rather than their usual Draco-centered seating plan. Maybe he was imagining things; most of them were in their normal seats.

They worked in pairs again. Harry with Hermione, Ron with Neville, Blaise and Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle, Draco with one of the nameless Slytherin faces. He looked rather disgusted about it. As the class rearranged to allow for pairs work, Harry and Hermione ended up behind Blaise and Pansy. This was going to be interesting. Actually, it probably wouldn't be too bad, Draco didn't look so upset.

That was the wrong way to judge it. Harry's class was peaceful, not a single hitch. Hermione's was a nightmare. Blaise ensured her failure at every aspect of the lesson plan. Harry was powerless to stop him, Crabbe and Goyle somehow managed to stand between him and Blaise.

Hermione, however, was resilient and bright. She worked around the pranks and still managed to salvage their work. However, it seemed she wasn't the only one Blaise targeted. Ron and Neville had a meltdown halfway through class. Dean and Seamus' potion was exactly the wrong color, and consistency. Lavender and Parvati's disappeared suddenly while they were working on it. Snape failed them all.

Harry began watching Blaise about halfway through class, glancing as carefully as he could around the Slytherin beaters. He was definitely doing it. But Harry noticed something else. Pansy was, not very surreptitiously, pointing out his targets and whispering in his ear. She was even correcting his spell casting a bit. When her hands weren't directing his malice, hey had a habit of finding their way to his leg, rubbing soothingly. Damn that gold-digging bitch, aligning herself for power.

Fuck! Power! That's Draco! As Harry was watching, Pansy, through Blaise, was toppling Draco right out of the Slytherin princehood. All because of what he, Harry, had done displaying Malfoy's weakness. He looked at Draco to find him calm and collected, but looking distinctly beaten.

Class ended and Draco departed, still aloof. Harry admired his ability to take that, but felt that the blonde had been wronged. His head started to hurt, right behind his eyes. Great, that was all he needed, a headache. He started out into the hall and saw Pansy and Blaise going the other direction. His mouth beat his brain.

"Parkinson!" She turned to him. They were surrounded by Slytherins and Gryffindors alike. She stepped in front of Blaise, spitting Harry's name by means of acknowledgement. His anger rose. One heartbeat. He had to act. There was no choice. "Don't ever do that again." He slapped her. Hard. Pansy recoiled in shock. Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise all stepped in front of her, glaring menacingly at Harry. After a few moments, however, Pansy pushed back to the front.

"What the fuck was _that_ for, Potter?"

Harry wasn't sure what he was going to say, he just said it. "I don't care if you fuck your way to the top, Parkinson. And I don't care what impotent rejects you take with you, or blow, or step all over, or whatever you do to them. But there are some people you shouldn't mess with."

Pansy seemed only phased. She quickly spat back, "Like who?"

"Like anyone who isn't thinking with his dick!"

Her voice dropped almost to the point of confidence, but still projected around the hall. "Or anyone who's dick isn't thinking, or perhaps can't think, about me?"

Harry laughed, harshly. "I apologize if some people prefer sex from someone who _won't_ fuck anything that moves."

Pansy merely laughed back. "Ha, that's a treasure, coming from you!"

Harry had no clue what that was supposed to mean, but it was definitely a comment on his sexual habits. And not a good one. He was having his sexual prowess insulted in the hall in front of everyone. He had run out of answers. And his head hurt, a sharp pain, behind his eyes. Anger welled up inside of him. And then it released.

There was a large thud and a collective gasp. Every Slytherin in the area had fallen down. Pansy had been thrown against the wall. Damn it. Again. He was going to get in so much trouble.

Pansy took a moment, but she finally did get up. She addressed the other Slytherins, though loudly enough for the general group to hear. "And _Draco_ called _Blaise_ a lapdog." Blaise gave her a sharp look. She walked off down the hall, done with the Gryffindors. They Slytherins followed.

Harry was confused, but the argument was over. His anger was gone and his headache was fading. He turned to Ron and Hermione. "I'm going to go talk to Dumbledore; you don't have to send me." He started off down the hall. He hated these stupid surges. It's not like he could have Draco's control over his emotions, he wished he could. 

-----------------------------------------------------------

After a long meeting with Dumbledore ("Try to maintain _control_, Mr. Potter."), an exhausted night's sleep (stupid energy bursts always wore him out), and an energetic quidditch practice (note to self: _never_ let the Creeveys have coffee), it was time for Harry to head for the Room of Requirement. He almost grabbed his cloak, then remembered that Eric had told him not to bring it. 

-----------------------------------------------------------

Draco arrived early, as usual. He opened the door to the Room of Requirement and stepped in, only to find that Eric had arrived earlier. "Eric?"

He was sitting on the bed, but now he stood and stepped in front of Draco. The blonde made to kiss him, and Eric didn't stop him. Rather, he seemed to be trying to get all of the worth out of this one kiss. It confused Draco, but he made to remove Eric's robes anyway. Now he was halted. Then he knew. This was a break up. Eric had brought him here to tell him off for his scene in the Great Hall and abandon him to his fate. Only two words of this whole thought crossed his lips, "…the surprise…"

Eric shushed him. "He's coming."

Draco's heart stopped. No. Eric hadn't just said that. He's coming? That could only be, _only_ be Harry. "You didn't."

Eric looked directly into his eyes; Draco could see the conviction there. "Oh, but I did."

He shoved the dark haired boy back from him. "What business is that of yours? Why would you do that?" He was spitting questions at the stumbling Ravenclaw.

But Eric's face wasn't shamed when he recovered. It was defiant. "I have my reasons for what I do." He looked Draco over, head to toe. "Do you think you'll fail in his eyes? Don't you have the balls to be in the same room with him?"

Draco was angry, but Eric had a point. He had just given Draco the best opportunity he was going to get. And that scared him. It scared him how well Eric knew his deepest desires. "Of course I have the balls! How can you say that? You hardly know me!"

"A bet then, to see which of us is right." Eric pushed the blond boy against the wall. "I think I know Draco a little better than you think." The Slytherin replied with a kiss, forceful and challenging. "A bet then, or better yet, a dare." He smiled, how fitting.

"A dare?"

"Yes, I dare you to take him. You and I both know you want to. And I have a pretty good idea he wants you to." Eric smirked. "And so does Parkinson. So do it. Take him; you'll be the first." Eric had done his research. Indeed, Harry was an admitted virgin, to some people. He released the blonde and stepped back. "Have fun."

With that, he left.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Eric managed to round the corner at the end of the hall just as he finished his incantation. Suddenly, his view shifted some hundred meters away and he saw the hem of his own cloak whip around the corner. He sat down; not a good idea to move when you're using someone else's eyes.

It took him a moment, but he got used to the bounce of Harry's gait and the image evened out. There was the entrance to the Room of Requirement. Harry stopped outside of it and put his hands to his eyes. Eric knew that the spell was probably causing him a minor headache, but it really shouldn't bother him much. The Gryffindor uncovered his eyes and his hand opened the door.

The view moved inside, then stopped, focused on Draco, sitting on the bed. Come on, Drake, that's no way to take him, sitting there all meek. Get up!

Draco did get up. He was talking to Harry, but Eric couldn't hear, he only had the use of Harry's eyes. He actually didn't like using this spell for this, but he needed to know what the Ravenclaws were watching. After his Great Hall performance, this was the least her could do to save face in his house. An experiment. Could Gryffindor A be paired with seemingly incompatible Slytherin B? He already knew the result. Scratch one fuckbuddy for Eric. Oh, well.

That wasn't the only experiment, however. Eric had tapped into Harry's sight before and found a perfect memory to try a different spell on. Through Harry's eyes, he could see that both boys were sitting on the bed now. He had a clear view of Draco's face; the blonde was speaking. As he watched the image slipped down a few inches and focused on the Slytherin's lips, then his throat. Hey, Vampire-Who-Lived, eyes off my Drake! My Drake? Apparently, he cared a little more for his "business acquaintance" than he thought.

He began the spell to distract himself. Legilimency is not easy magic, and he had to be careful, it was rumored that the Gryffindor was trained in Occlumency. He carefully crept into Harry's mind, flipping through the memories for the day before when he had tapped in and seen the fight with Parkinson. No, no, no…there. He quickly listened to it, yes, even better than he had thought; Potter had practically proclaimed love for Draco.

Now for the second part. He tapped into Draco's mind, resisting the temptation to poke around. He was here for a reason, and he _knew_ the Malfoys were trained in Occlumency. He lifted the memory from Harry and fed it to Draco, sensing the Slytherin's mind seize as he realized what was happening. Quickly, he checked Harry's eyes. Draco looked a bit surprised, but nothing to be concerned about. The view tipped as Harry looked quizzically at the startled blonde. Draco shook his head dismissively and then stopped. His eyes went wide as saucers.

Fuck! He hadn't stopped the memory. Something else must have passed through to Draco! He shut down the connections abruptly. The view through Harry's eyes swung around the room wildly as Draco's hands went to his head. Then the Gryffindor blinked and Eric found himself staring at a tapestry in the hall. So he _was_ trained. 

-----------------------------------------------------------

"Someone was in my head." Draco heard Harry's voice, though he still had his hands on his head. Someone had been in his, too. And they had left something behind.

More than one something, memories. They were definitely Harry's, but he didn't think the Gryffindor knew they had moved. In fact, he was fairly sure that the same person had been in both of their heads, moving memories.

First, Harry's actions after Potions class. He hadn't imagined that Potter would take that kind of initiative on his part. He also hadn't imagined that Parkinson would suggest such things about Harry, from inferring his sexuality to hinting that Draco was screwing him. Draco, of course, knew that was false. He only wished she was right. He felt Harry's confusion and rising anger.

The memory ended with a huge flash of power. Draco didn't know what that was, but the memory jumped. It jumped back to the Great Hall. He didn't get the whole memory, just Eric standing. "You've been shagging _her_?" Inexplicably, Harry had thought, Not right after that! "Deal's off Drake! And here I've been, faithful to you, despite anything else I've wanted to do!" Again, Harry's thought, Here it comes. Had he actually known something?

Then Eric dragged Harry to his feet and pulled him face to face. Harry definitely seemed to know what was coming, even anticipated it. Eric leaned forward to catch the Gryffindor's lips and Draco felt the pleasure. Harry had enjoyed that. Draco couldn't believe what he was seeing. Then, suddenly, he wasn't. The person in his head had pulled out, hard.

As the two boys recovered from the painful exit of their mutual intruder, they stared at each other. Draco wondered what Harry was thinking, but only vaguely, he was really thinking about Harry's reaction to Eric. He had enjoyed that, and it preyed on the Slytherin's mind. Finally, his own jealousy got the better of him. Without reservation, Draco acted.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Harry blinked in surprise. Oh, Merlin, Harry thought, he _kissed_ me. It felt good. He shut his eyes and kissed back, he would figure out what the hell he was doing later.

He felt a hand wrap around behind his neck and pull his head toward Draco as the blonde kissed him harder. Then a tongue ran along his lips. The only thought that crossed his mind was "how do I get more of that?" He opened his lips and admitted Draco, who was shifting closer to him and pushing him back on the bed.

A hand found its way under his shirt, sliding up along his ribcage. He slid his tongue into Draco's mouth, breathing in the blonde's scent, clean and fresh. And he hadn't even showered yet for the night. He wrapped his arms around Draco's waist as the Slytherin rolled on top of him.

Harry felt himself definitely reacting to this whole range of new sensations. Without thought, he pulled Draco in as close as he could, even though the teenager was already on top of him. The hand under his shirt slid down to his waist and the fingers curled over the hem of his trousers, slipping around to the clasp.

All at once, Harry's head caught up with all of this. He broke the kiss, pushed Draco off, and sat up. "Hold on!"


	17. Finally

_Yes, the missing half hour in Draco's room does exist, it's on my website, if you want to read it._

_-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

Harry wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but he knew something was wrong. All right, enough with the innocence, he knew _exactly_ what was going on. He was well on his way to losing his virginity to the hottest guy at Hogwarts. That didn't change the fact that something was wrong.

"Hold on?" Draco's voice seemed far away as he echoed Harry's words. He looked rather surprised. Harry wondered what the blonde found more surprising, Harry's response or the actions that provoked it. He didn't have long to wonder, though, as Draco's face fast hardened. "If you don't want…just…go, Potter. Forget it. I'm fucked already, so…just go." Draco turned his head to glare at the wall, avoiding Harry.

No, that was wrong too. Damn him, he made everything so confusing! Harry couldn't believe how rash the Slytherin was being, wasn't thoughtless action among the _Gryffindor_ faults? "I'm not going anywhere. I just…want to talk first."

"Talk?" Draco seemed honestly confused. "What's to talk about?"

"A lot, Draco." The blonde met Harry's eyes at the use of his name. "First off, what are we doing?"

"I thought that was fairly obvious, but if you need me to explain it…When two people love each other very much-"

"Exactly."

Confusions clouded Draco's face for a moment, then suddenly cleared in a dawn of realization. His mouth opened and shut a few times, but nothing came out.

"Draco," Harry carefully used the other boy's first name, as strange as it felt, "do you see why we need to talk?"

The Slytherin nodded almost miserably.

Harry felt a pang, of pity? Perhaps. Either way, he felt drawn closer to the boy a few feet away, so he pulled himself up next to Draco, sliding an arm around the blonde's shoulders. "But I'm not _going_ anywhere. I don't think I could."

Draco dropped his head onto Harry's shoulder, releasing a breath the Gryffindor suspected he had been holding for quite some time. Harry hated to break the comfortable silence, so instead, he picked the Slytherin's head up and kissed him, lightly, on the lips. Then he sighed, "So, what are we?"

"Fucked." Draco's answer actually surprised him.

"What?"

"We're fucked. Or maybe only me. I really can't speak for you."

"Draco, what do you mean?"

"Don't tell me you're _that_ thick!" The Slytherin sat up, searching Harry's face for something he didn't find. "Merlin, do you realize what I've done? I have falling head-over-heels for the one person I'm supposed to hate. Not to mention you're a guy."

"Hate?" Harry knew that Draco's father was a Death Eater and that Voldemort's followers didn't exactly, in any sense of the word, like him, but hate seemed so strong.

"Merlin's beard! For seven years now, all I was supposed to be doing was getting close enough to you to turn you over to my father. If he knew that I fell in…in love with you." The blonde ducked his head as though ashamed. "Well, I don't know what would happen. And that's on top of the fact that I am, apparently, gay, which also won't go over well. No heirs to the Malfoy line and all of that."

Harry caught his tongue before he confirmed that Malfoy _wouldn't_ turn him in. It seemed the wrong thing to ask at the time. Instead, he squeezed the blonde's shoulder. "Don't worry, Draco, we can deal with it. I mean, I've defeated the Dark Lord six times. And you, hell, you've practically lived in the same house with him. I think we can handle a little disapproval."

Draco formed his mouth carefully around the name, "Harry, you underestimate. You underestimate vastly. And yet, I want you to be right, I really do."

Harry suddenly realized how fast he had jumped to 'we'. What happened to talking things out? Draco happened. In seven years of being best enemies, Harry should have realized that Draco either told you something or he didn't. He wasn't one to beat around the bush. He had made his point abundantly clear. He loved Harry. The thought still felt like a wet slap in the face. Yet, he was finding more and more, he loved Draco back. He just had never, really, thought about it.

On a whim, he leaned forward and caught the blonde's lips again, just for a moment. When he pulled back, he saw the corners of Draco's mouth pulling up and the little shine in his eyes. He laughed, breaking any tension that might have been left in the room, a laugh filled with mirth as only someone as fun-loving as Harry can express. Draco looked at him questioningly. "I found a way to make you smile." The Gryffindor pointed out bluntly, and did it again. This time, Draco grinned brilliantly, with an honest gaiety Harry had never seen in him before.

"My turn." Suddenly, Draco kissed him. Harry worked hard to keep the corners of his mouth neutral, or as close to down as he could get them. Draco pouted and tried again, more forcefully. With a concerted effort, Harry stayed neutral.

With a playfully frustrated growl, the blonde bowled Harry over, pinning him down on the bed and lowering his mouth to the Gryffindor's ear. "I know how," he whispered. "Harry Potter, will you be my boyfriend?"

At first, Harry was too shocked to respond, then a smile forced its way onto his lips, there was no way to keep it in. "You did it. And yes, yes I will, Draco."

"Good, because I was running out of ideas. Let's get out of here."

"Out of here?" Harry didn't follow Draco's sudden change of tack.

"Yes, well…" Still on top of Harry, the blonde leaned over and kissed him again. Harry quickly forgot his question, almost entirely. Draco set a line of touches up his cheek to his ear, raking his teeth along his earlobe. Then Harry realized he was whispering. "We're being watched. How about my room?"

Harry couldn't contain a moan as Draco's tongue played with his ear. He slid a hand up the blonde's side, then threw his weight over, rolling himself on top of the Slytherin. He planted his lips over Draco's, drinking him in as much as he could, then pulled back abruptly. "Race you there." With that, he took off. 

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A half hour later, the Slytherin rolled away from him, letting him collapse to the side. It was only some five minutes before the blonde pulled himself together enough to grab his wand and do some quick clean up. He straddled the still recuperating Harry and kissed him on the lips with what the Gryffindor rather fancied to be tenderness. It was a whole different kind of pleasure from the rest. The kind that felt like I would never end.

Harry rolled into the kiss, effectively curling himself up against his…lover. That felt right. His Draco, with his biting tongue and scorching remarks, now beautiful and tame, like a dragon in flight. A dragon. His dragon. "Mmm…my dragon."

"Oh, is that right?" Draco pulled his head up to look at him. "Hmm…I guess so. But, for that, you get to be my lion."

Harry fell asleep to Draco's now familiar deep chuckle.


	18. Repurcussions

_Alright, so I haven't touched this story in, oh, 3 years? I hope this meshes and doesn't sound completely different. Props to Maeggy for giving the whole thing a reread so she could tell me this chapter didn't sound like it completely didn't fit!_

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Harry stretched as he awoke, luxuriating in the comfortable bed. Leave it to Draco to get a bed a cut above. Wait, Draco!? His eyes snapped open and, an instant later, registered the blonde watching him. He nearly fell off the bed, he jumped so far. "Shit, Draco! Don't _do_ that!"

"Sorry!" Draco looked away sheepishly. "You just looked so peaceful and I couldn't quite believe it and I was trying to…mmm…" Harry stopped the other boy's ramblings with a kiss.

"I don't quite believe it either. Remember, you've had more time to adjust to this idea than I have." He took in Draco's face, enjoying the truly happy look on it, when something struck him. "Speaking of adjusting…what about everyone else?"

Draco's face fell and Harry instantly regretted mentioning it. "Well…I suppose I've thought more about this part than you. So, after Eric's stunt in the Great Hall, I'm out anyway. I'll probably have to deal with Father any moment now. So, in reality, I'm dealing with everybody else anyway. The question is, since I've already done it unwillingly, are you willing to do it voluntarily and we can be…well…together publicly, or do you want to wait?"

Now it was Harry's turn to make a despondent face. He couldn't believe how gracious Draco was being after all he had put him through. Though, Draco didn't know about his part in the Great Hall disaster. "Draco, I think there's a few things I need to tell you."

"You can tell me anything. There's probably a few things I should tell you, too."

"In that case, I have an idea." He kissed Draco again, trying not to think about what the blonde would think of him in a few minutes. "I'll go first, but you have to promise to listen to the whole thing rationally. Then it will be your turn."

Draco nodded.

Harry took a deep breath and started with the game. He told Draco about his dare, sneaking around, sitting in the bureau, the list, Eric, and the plans for the Great Hall.

Draco, ever in control of his emotions, drew into himself as Harry spoke, becoming less readable, but did not lash out. When Harry finished, all he said was "So you _were_ expecting it…"

The boys lapsed into silence for a few minutes. Harry looking miserable and Draco thoughtful. Finally, Draco spoke. "I'm trying to see this from your perspective. You felt bound by the dare, I know that's the way you are. That's why you're my lion." Harry was surprised at the accuracy of his analysis, but, he supposed, being enemies for so long was almost like being best friends, he felt like he knew the way Draco thought almost as well. "But I don't see why things happened the way they did in the Great Hall. Why did Audrey show up? Why was Eric willing to come out?"

Harry looked up, glad that Draco didn't sound too angry. "Well, when I found out about you, I went to Hermione, I told her everything, she thinks we're…cute. Anyway, she wrote Audrey a note telling her you weren't only sleeping with her. She thought she was helping. As for Eric, well, I told him he could use my invisibility cloak for ten days, at his discretion."

Draco's eyes snapped to Harry's face. "You did? Shit, now it all fits! Fucking manipulative son-of-a-bitch!" Draco was pacing the room now, still nude, making it rather difficult for Harry to concentrate on what he was saying.

"Huh?"

Draco sighed and sat back down. "Eric is, well, he's not someone to be taken lightly. Let me worry about him. There are a few things I need to tell you. And I want to start with the end rather than the beginning. Last night, when we were in the Room of Requirement, someone was in our heads, right?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, he moved something."

Harry panicked. "He? What?"

Draco sighed. "I'm ahead of myself. I think it was Eric. And he moved some of your memories."

Now he was really freaking out. "Mine? Which? Where?"

"Harry!" Draco's tone was sharp. "Calm down! I'm telling you."

Harry took a deep breath. "Sorry, I guess I just hadn't thought about it when I realized someone was in my head. I did some Occlumency training with Snape because Dumbledore thinks Voldemort can get into my head. I'm supposed to report intrusions like that. Damn it! How do you know he moved stuff?"

Draco grabbed Harry's hand. "Because he moved them to me. I really don't think he did anything beyond that."

"To you? Which ones?"

"The argument you had with Pansy. Except, the memory ended abruptly, I'm honestly curious about that, and I don't think he meant to send the second memory," he paused. "It was the Great Hall, when he…kissed you…"

"Ah…" Harry didn't know what to say. Draco had felt what he felt when Eric kissed him, he couldn't deny it or take it back.

"Look, Harry," Draco looked at him seriously, "Eric is a manipulative son-of-a-bitch, be very careful with him."

Harry nodded.

"Okay, the rest of this is probably about what you expect. My dad's a Death Eater; I've been spying on you since first year, not that I was in any position to know anything useful. Now that I am, I will probably have to go to Dumbledore for protection from my father." He cringed. Harry squeezed his hand. Draco looked his way. "It's okay, home life isn't amazing when your dad is working for the Dark Lord. I mean, sure there was money and power, but I'm not exactly close to my dad. We graduate at the end of this year anyway."

Harry got up and started to dress. Draco looked at him, surprised, "What are you doing?"

"Before things get too nuts, let's go to Dumbledore's office. You need to talk to him about your dad and I need to mention that someone, I know you think it was Eric, but still, someone was in my head." Harry was buttoning his trousers as he spoke, much to Draco's apparent dismay. "Come on, get dressed before you drive me to distraction."

Draco dressed reluctantly, looking a little off the whole time. Finally, he put his hand on the doorknob of his room. "Do you want me to go first so you can make an excuse about being around here?"

"No, I would never make an excuse about this." He kissed the blonde and grabbed his hand, throwing the door open and heading right through the staring common room and into the hallways, right up to Dumbledore's door.


End file.
